My Heart's Desire
by Predec2
Summary: Continuation of "The Wedding Present."  Exploration of Brian's evolving relationship with his biological father and grandparents, as well as Fin's run for governor with his own partner by his side.  Brian/Justin, Gus, other original characters
1. Beginnings

_A/N: This is a continuation of the story presented in "The Wedding Present," so it makes a lot more sense if you have already read that one. To briefly provide a synopsis, Justin discovers Brian was adopted as a baby and locates his biological father and maternal grandparents as his wedding gift to him. He also discovers that Brian's father, Fin O'Connor, who is an influential state senator and is set to run for governor, is also gay. This story will delve into Brian's evolving relationship with his newly-discovered family, Fin's run for governor, and Fin's relationship with his partner, Tony. I hope you enjoy it!_

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_Late Evening after Brian and Justin's Wedding _

Fin smiled as he glanced over at his partner, who was humming some inane, unidentifiable tune under his breath. He could always tell when Tony was happy, because he would hum almost subconsciously. "What is that?" he asked softly, as he turned his eyes back toward the road.

"What?" Tony asked, puzzled.

Fin huffed out a soft chuckle. "That little ditty you're humming to yourself."

"Huh?"

Fin laughed. "You weren't even aware you were doing it, were you?"

Tony looked over at him sheepishly and smiled. "I guess not. You know how I am."

Fin smiled over tenderly at the blond. "Yeah," he said softly. "I know." In the courtroom, his partner could be a virtual pit bull, tenaciously holding onto what he saw as the truth and clamping down hard on it, never letting up until he had come out victorious for his client. But in private moments like these, he could also be sentimental, emotional, and downright sappy. Having just come from his son's wedding – a grand, sweeping, elegant affair where he and Tony were able to blissfully forget about everything going on in their lives and just be themselves if only for a brief, fleeting moment – he knew this would undoubtedly rank as one of Tony's more emotionally satisfying experiences. "You had a good time tonight, didn't you?" he asked his partner quietly, already knowing the answer.

He watched as a broad smile broke out on the beautiful face. "Yeah," Tony whispered as he looked over at the brunet. "I had a _real_ good time." The blond shook his head as if the whole event had been a dream. "We don't get to do that enough – not _nearly_ enough."

Fin reached over to clasp his partner's hand and give it a squeeze before releasing it and placing his own hand back on the steering wheel. "No, we don't," he agreed, turning his eyes back to the moonless road; out in the country vista of the West Virginia hillside there were no streetlights to guide them and it was black as pitch, forcing Fin to keep a sharp lookout. He spoke again as he kept his eyes on the highway. "Tony, you know this is just the beginning, don't you? If you think our lack of privacy is bad _now,_ just wait until the campaign gets into full swing. It's going to be downright brutal then." He voiced aloud the question of greatest concern to him. "Are you sure you're willing to put up with that?"

Tony glanced over at his partner and snorted softly. "Do you really think I have a choice, Fin? I thought I had already made my position clear, _Senator_…..I love you; I'm not going anywhere. Besides, I've fought against plenty of unreasonable, pushy assholes before; whether they're with the bar association or the press, it doesn't matter. They're all the same. All you can do is just stand your ground and keep fighting until they see reason….or until we can manage to escape either into our house or into your office chambers."

Fin had to smile at that statement, said so firmly as it it was the most uncomplicated thing in the world. "Spoken like a true bulldog attorney," Fin teased as the corner of his mouth lifted in amusement. "It's that simple, is it?" he asked, as he risked another glance at his partner.

"It is if you're standing up for what you believe in," the blond told him adamantly. "And I believe in you, Fin," Tony said softly. "And I know if you're elected governor, you will be making a big difference in the lives of a lot of people."

Fin's smile widened as he added, "And you _also _know that you'll be the partner then of a very influential and powerful man – not to mention the free perks that come with it."

Tony huffed softly as he folded his hands over his chest. "Perks?" he repeated in mock affront.

"Yeah….a nice, palatial gubernatorial mansion, beefy bodyguards to wipe your ass – at least figuratively speaking," the brunet hastened to add before his partner had a chance to object, "Gourmet meals….not to mention being fucked by the governor himself and inheriting the title of official consort."

Tony snorted loudly. "_Official consort?_ Fin, you're running for governor, not for the title of sultan. I'm not your little wife and I'm _nobody's_ consort."

Fin licked his lips in delight and laughed, peering over wickedly at the flashing blue eyes of his partner. Tony stared back at him for a few seconds as if he were perturbed until he smirked and smiled back at him in response.

"Well, I'm glad you clarified that for me," Fin responded, grinning. His face transformed into more of a tender look as he whispered, "It was a great time, wasn't it? And I finally got to actually do a little bonding with my son and grandson." Fin shook his head; it was still hard to believe he even _had_ a son and grandson. It felt weird in a way, but it also felt good.

Tony nodded silently, a wistful expression on his face as he thought back over the day's events. The opportunity to dance with Fin, enjoy his company, get to know Justin and Brian better, and enjoy some great food to boot – all without the intrusion of the press at their heels. Yeah, it had been a wonderful day, an incredible day; one he would remember for a long time to come. "Yeah, it was," Tony said. "I really had a good time today."

"Me, too," Fin told him, "…and I love you, too, by the way," he whispered sincerely, reaching over to squeeze the slender shoulder before he once more lightly clasped Tony's hand in his. His partner smiled back at him and curled his fingers around his hand in response as they drove on in companionable silence for several seconds. Fin glanced over eventually to notice his partner's eyes had closed and he assumed he had fallen asleep; a few moments later, though, he heard Tony say his name. "Fin?"

"Yeah?"

"I have a suggestion for your campaign. One that might help bring you and Brian even closer together."

Fin shook his head in amusement; his partner's thought wheels always seemed to be turning constantly. "What? You think I need an advertising agency to give me an image makeover, Counselor?" he teased.

Tony turned his head to thoughtfully stare at his lover. "Actually, you're not far off. I think you should consider making Brian your campaign manager."

Fin's brows shot up and his eyes widened. "Campaign manager? Brian owns an ad agency. Where did _that_ come from?" Fin didn't know much yet about his son's business, other than Kinnetik was apparently the most prosperous advertising agency in Pittsburgh. But how did his partner jump from that knowledge to Brian running his campaign?

"Hear me out, Fin," Tony pressed. "I was talking to Justin the other day, and something he said made a light bulb go off in my head. Don't say it," he quickly chided his partner before Fin had a chance to retort with some sort of snappy comeback over his comment. He knew the man was dying to say something using the word "dim," but to his partner's credit, the brunet pursed his lips together and grinned silently back in response.

He nodded, satisfied at the other man's decision before he took a breath and plunged ahead. "Justin told me that Brian had created such an effective advertising campaign for a man running for mayor of Pittsburgh a few years ago, he almost won because of it. Thank God he didn't."

Fin frowned; sometimes his partner's legal logic made him confused as hell. "If you're suggesting Brian should help me with my campaign, why is it a good thing, then, that the man lost?" As much as he wanted to develop a closer relationship with his son, Tony's disclosure didn't seem to be a positive testimonial that his son could be an effective campaign manager for him.

Tony smiled enigmatically back at his partner before he divulged his trump card, "Because the man who lost was Jim Stockwell…and your son was the one who single-handedly brought him down." After he had spoken to Justin, he had gone back to his office and scoured the web for all the information he could find on the corrupt policeman; it had taken him considerable time to figure out just who the "Concerned Citizens for the Truth" were, but once he was able to review the legal disclosures that were filed in relation to the television advertising, eventually he was able to figure out who the sponsor was behind them. He was stunned to find out it had been Brian; from there, though, it was easy enough to speak to Justin to find out what exactly had transpired to make Brian take a 180-degree turn and change from staunch backer to fierce opponent. He watched now as his partner's face scrunched up in an attempt to figure out where he had heard that name before. It only took a few seconds until he noticed the brunet's face light up with revelation.

"Oh, my God!" the man cried out in shock as he stole another glance over at the younger man. "You mean the police chief who covered up that kid's murder for his partner?"

Tony smiled. "Give the man another vote," he quipped. "That's the guy we all love to know and hate."

"I don't believe it!" Fin murmured in disbelief before a thought suddenly assailed him. He recalled vividly the situation that had been publicized all over the newspapers throughout the state at the time; it had filled him with both disgust and abhorrence that a man sworn to protecting citizens and upholding the law had stooped to such abominable tactics to try and get a fellow cop off for such a heinous crime.

"_Brian_ developed the campaign for that homophobic prick? Why in the hell would he do _that_?" From everything he had learned so far about his son, Brian seemed like the _last_ person who would support a hypocrite who courted the homosexual vote from one side of his mouth while spouting anti-gay rhetoric out the other side. "I don't understand, Tony….how could he have created Stockwell's advertising campaign and then been responsible for helping him lose?"

Tony advised him, "Because he finally came to his senses and realized how dangerous the asshole would be if he actually won. That's why your son secretly launched a counter-campaign to prevent him from being elected. It was so effective that the votes within the man's own precinct were the ones that ultimately lost him the election." He was quiet for a few seconds to allow his words to sink in before he dropped the _real_ bomb. "In fact, Brian wound up spending $100,000 of his own money to make sure the man didn't get elected."

Fin couldn't help it this time; he took his eyes off the road for several seconds as he stared over at his partner in shock. "You are shitting me," he responded.

Tony shook his head. "Nope – it's the truth; part of it I found out from doing some legal digging into the media advertising disclosures, and the rest I verified from Justin. I had to promise him I wouldn't let Brian know I found out about it, though; seems the man is as proud and stubborn as someone _else_ I know and would resent it if his actions were discovered."

Fin's head was reeling; his son had been hired by Stockwell to do his advertising for his campaign, just like he was some commodity, and then he had turned tail and paid $100,000 to see that the man wasn't elected after all? It was hard to believe. "I don't get it," he said flatly. "Why would Brian take the job in the first place if he didn't believe in what the man stood for?"

"Spoken like a true attorney, Fin – I'm proud of you," Tony teased with a smile. "From what Justin told me, your son was merely looking at it initially as a lucrative business deal; it was only later when he understood how many freedoms he would be giving up should the man be elected that he realized he was on the wrong side of the fence and he'd better do something about it." He let out an exhale of breath through his mouth as he added, "He practically went broke doing that, Fin. Justin said he would have lost everything if some of his friends and others in the community hadn't banded together out of gratitude and reimbursed him for what he had paid out."

"Unbelievable," Fin murmured as he turned his eyes back to the road. He couldn't help the hint of pride, though, that seeped into his voice as he stated, "And now look at him just a few years later – he owns the most profitable advertising agency in Pittsburgh."

"Yes, he does," Tony replied, nodding. "I think that says a lot about him – it says he's ethical, innovative, a fighter for gay rights, and a thinker outside the box – just the type of person you need for your campaign. I mean, who could you trust more with your campaign than your own _son_?"

Fin pondered that possibility; he knew that his son was very successful at what he did – the fact that his business was so profitable and had become that way in such a short period of time was clear evidence of that. But his campaign manager? There was a lot more to running a campaign of this magnitude than merely having creative insight and drive.

"Wow, Tony," Fin murmured thoughtfully. "It's an incredible idea…..but I don't know. I mean, I want nothing more than to become closer to my son – God knows I've got a lot of making up to do – but making Brian my _campaign manager_? There's more to it than just having someone you can trust."

"I know," Tony persisted, warming up more and more to the idea. "But to be the CEO of such an influential advertising agency, he's got to have imagination, determination, and persistence to be successful. You _need_ someone who is going to be willing to go outside his comfort zone and confront all those homophobic naysayers who will only be looking at you as a statistic or a sacrificial lamb, not as a serious candidate for governor. You are so much more than that, Fin! You're only going to get one chance at this! I'm telling you – he would be perfect! And what better opportunity to bond more closely with your son!"

Fin shook his head at his partner's enthusiasm as he looked over into the passionate, animated blue eyes. The man could always talk him into virtually anything, but he couldn't stress enough the importance of picking just the right campaign manager to lead his race for governor. Was Brian the one? Was his partner right?

He sighed as he curled his lips under to stare at him in amazement. "As usual, Counselor, you make a very persuasive argument."

Tony smiled. "So how persuasive was it?" The longer he thought about it, the more he became convinced that Fin _had_ to talk Brian into doing it.

Fin raised his eyebrows and grinned. "Well, I'm warming up to it by the minute," he admitted. He sobered somewhat, though, as he added, "Regardless, I wouldn't dare bring it up to him until after he gets back from his honeymoon, though." Justin had given him both his and Brian's cell numbers should they need to contact them for anything, but unless there was some dire emergency he had no intention of interrupting their two-week vacation.

Tony found himself feeling inexplicably melancholy about the fact that his partner's son and husband were about to go on their honeymoon; for the past few hours he had done a good job of pushing that thought deep inside, but it still didn't mean he wasn't just a tad bit envious that the two men were newly married and about to embark on their trip. For just a moment, he longed for the same experience with Fin. But he quickly quashed the feeling and plastered a neutral expression on his face before he said anything else; the last thing he wanted to do was make Fin feel guilty over his honest admission earlier that he simply wasn't ready to get married.

He needed to remember, instead, how far he and Fin had come in their _own_ relationship; after all, it hadn't been too long ago that his partner wouldn't even be seen together with him out in the open. Now, he not only had publicly acknowledged him, he had told him unhesitatingly that if he won the gubernatorial race, the two of them would be living together openly in the governor's mansion. That was a huge step for his partner; for now, then, he needed to be content and grateful for that.

Tony nodded back at him in agreement. "I agree," he said. "I wouldn't want them to be disturbed. If you _do _decide to ask him, and he accepts, he's going to be thrust into the spotlight right along with you."

Fin winced. "Shit, that's right," he muttered with distaste, thinking about how his _own_ life had been disrupted lately. "I hadn't even thought about that. I'm not sure he's going to be willing to have his life plastered all over the newspaper pages and the web like mine is. His life won't be his own while he's running my campaign." As they continued to drive back toward their home in Harrisburg, Fin considered that rather unpleasant, stark fact. "I don't know if it's fair to ask that of him, Tony."

"Maybe not," the blond admitted. "But don't you think that should be up to Brian? _If_ you decide to ask him, that is," he hastened to add as he smiled back at his lover and waggled his eyebrows hopefully. The brunet rolled his eyes in return and shook his head in defeat. _Little fucker…._

Fin shook his head; this man always seemed to talk him into things, whether he really wanted to do them or not. Something told him this would probably not be an exception. "Okay, Counselor," he said softly. "You've pled your case well. I'll talk to him when he gets back – but I'm not promising anything."

He was rewarded with a brief kiss on the cheek. "You won't regret it," Tony softly told him, his breath a pleasant whisper against the brunet's face.

Fin snorted. "One of these days, you won't be such a hot little blond. Then how will you win all these arguments?" he facetiously chided him. He knew, though, that Tony was so much more than just a beautiful man on the outside – a lot more…..He constantly challenged him and made him a stronger person because of it.

Tony smiled as he placed his head on Fin's shoulder. "I'll think of something," he murmured as he finally closed his eyes and nodded off to sleep, Fin's hand firmly around his shoulders as the brunet pulled him tighter against his side. _I'm sure you will, my love….I'm sure you will._

_Britin – Same time_

Brian sat with his back against the headboard, reviewing a brochure for their honeymoon destination. He smiled as he recalled Justin's badgering earlier about where they were going. Despite some rather aggressive moves on his husband's part – after all, Justin had learned all his best fucking moves from him – he had managed to remain tight-lipped about their trip. It hadn't been easy with the man's lips and hands roaming sensually all over him – he had almost cracked earlier when Justin had begun to assault him with his arsenal of sex techniques, including a full-body massage with exotic oils, whipped cream removal by his extremely talented tongue, and a slow-motion strip tease that had him downright salivating with desire by the time he was done – but he had somehow managed to remain resolute nonetheless.

Now as Justin lay sleeping beside him, his head resting on the brunet's stomach, Brian smiled tenderly and reached down to softly stroke the blond mop of hair. God, he didn't know how it was possible, but he fell deeper and deeper in love with Justin by the day. The man's ability to constantly keep him on his toes was a constant delight to him. And what he had done for their wedding – discovering and tracking down his true father and grandparents so he could hopefully develop a meaningful relationship with them – just blew him away. He had been so happy to meet Sean and Kathy – they were such loving, special people. And as much as he grudgingly hated to admit it, even his father was beginning to grow on him. He wasn't quite the asshole that he had initially thought he was; the man actually had courage to stand up for his beliefs, even amidst confrontation and bigots that spouted such misinformed epithets. He and Fin were just starting to get to know each other, but for a change he found himself actually looking forward to learning more about him. He didn't quite trust him yet, but his feelings for the man were slowly changing.

"Brian?"

He was startled out of his reverie as he removed his hand that had been fondling Justin's head and peered down into the drowsy eyes peering up at him. "I thought you were asleep, Mr. Taylor," he gently scolded him, as he surreptitiously took the brochure he still held in his hand and quietly reached over to open the nearby drawer and place it inside so a certain someone didn't see it.

"I was, but I'm too wired to stay sleep," Justin told him sleepily. "And that's _Mr. Taylor-Kinney_ to you, by the way."

Brian grinned as he curled his lips under in amusement. "Pardon my mistake…._Mr. Taylor-Kinney_. Mmmm…now I wonder what we could do to get you to go back to sleep?" He seemed to ponder that for a moment as he reached down to cup Justin's cheek gently and stroke it. "I know I'm getting on in years, but I seem to recall what you normally prefer instead of a sleeping pill. Now just where did I stick it?" he asked, biting his lip in apparent concentration. He finally smiled as he reached down with his free hand to cup Justin's ass and rub it lightly. "Oh, yeah…..it goes in _here." _

Justin snorted. "How original," he intoned drolly. His hand lightly caressed Brian's bare chest as he rolled his eyes at the joke. "I already _had_ that 'sleeping pill' three times already," he reminded the other man. "And I _still_ woke up." He gazed up into the amused, hazel eyes as he innocently said, "I _do_ know something that might help put me back to sleep, though."

Brian's brows shot up in interested curiosity. "A nice, hot shower fuck?"

Justin smacked him lightly on the chest. "Not quite." He looked up at Brian hopefully as he slyly murmured, "You could tell me where we're going tomorrow."

Brian smirked. "We're going somewhere? I thought we were sticking around to entertain the Munchkins and Gus. It would be rude to leave our guests here alone."

"Bri-an," Justin pleaded. "You're killing me here! Can't you at least give me a hint? Come on!"

Brian smiled, wickedly delighted to be putting his new husband through such torment. "Well…okay – just a _little_ hint."

Justin's eyes lit up excitedly as he raised himself higher up in the bed to sit next to Brian against the headboard. Finally, he was getting somewhere. He took Brian's hand and squeezed it tightly in anticipation – a little too tightly.

"Ow!" Brian groused as he tried to maneuver his fingers apart. "Not so tight, Sunshine!" he chided.

"That never bothered you before," Justin reminded him playfully. "You _like_ tight."

Brian couldn't help huffing out a small chuckle as the bright blue eyes twinkled back at him mischievously. God, he loved this man so…..

"Okay, I'll give you_ two_ hints, actually," the brunet said as Justin's face lit up in barely-controlled eagerness to finally learn something, _anything_, about exactly where they were going for their honeymoon. It had initially perturbed him that even after all these years and his own personal success professionally, Brian still felt a need to be in charge of things like this, but his husband had been insistent that he wanted to make all the arrangements as a surprise to him. Justin had to admit – he had found it endearing in a caveman sort of way.

"Well?" he asked anxiously as he relished in the warmth of Brian's hand clasping his lightly.

Brian smiled. "Okay…here goes. Well, it's warm where we going…..and there's lots of sheep there."

Justin's hope for a revealing clue as to their honeymoon locale faded into disappointment as he groused, "It's warm _everywhere_, Brian – it's summer. And sheep? Every fucking country has sheep! What kind of clue is that?"

Brian grinned over at his irritated husband, enjoying himself immensely. "Now that's not true, Justin – it's winter in Australia and New Zealand, for instance," he pointed out reasonably. "And I can't be responsible for the large sheep population in the world."

Justin pursed his lips tightly together and frowned, still aggravated that Brian's rather enigmatic information was all he was apparently going to get for now. He scrunched up his face thoughtfully, though, as he ventured facetiously, "Are you taking me on an eco-tour of sheep herding?"

Brian rolled his eyes as he continued to hold the blond's hand while his other hand was wrapped firmly around Justin's back. "Not quite," he groused. "The only exposure I want with sheep is when I buy my next cashmere sweater."

"Brian," Justin huffed impatiently…He wracked his brain frantically for the answer…..Knowing Brian, it had to be somewhere incredible, but he couldn't figure it out. "Come on – what type of clues are those? I need something more specific to go on."

Brian curled his lips, thoroughly enjoying Justin's frustration. "Mmmm….okay, maybe one more clue. There's a lot of booze there."

The blond shook his head in disgust. "Wow – such specific clues to decipher." He decided to try a new tactic that normally got him what he wanted. "Brian….if I give you the blow job of the century, will you _please _tell me where the fuck we're going?" he pleaded. For emphasis, he reached down with his free hand to grasp Brian's quickly-hardening cock and began to stroke it deftly as a demonstration, provoking a soft groan of appreciation from the other man. "Please?" Justin repeated even more softly, staring at Brian intently as he practically fucked him with his eyes.

Brian's body began to tingle at the dual onslaught; he never _could_ win against this man. "No fair," he breathed out raggedly as Justin smiled back innocently in return; he closed his eyes in pleasure as he felt his body beginning to climb toward the familiar feeling of bliss that only Justin could give him.

Justin continued to skillfully pump his warm, soft hand up and down Brian's shaft for several seconds as only he could do; Brian could feel his cock quickly heading for release as he felt his body stiffening in response; suddenly, however, the hand was gone and a gaping emptiness was all that remained. Brian's brows narrowed in consternation. "Why'd you stop?" he huffed out as he stared into Justin's eyes; somehow, the blond's face had crept closer to him as his gaze lowered to study the full lips just begging to be kissed. He leaned in to do just that, but Justin quickly placed his hand on his mouth and pushed him away slightly.

He could feel Justin's breath gently washing over his face as his husband answered, "I'm waiting for you to live up to our bargain first, Mr. Kinney," he reminded him, his eyes twinkling in amusement as he whispered in his ear. "One mind-altering blowjob in exchange for our honeymoon destination."

Brian harrumphed. "You think pretty highly of your talents, don't you…Mr. _Taylor-Kinney,_" he murmured breathlessly as Justin began to sprinkle butterfly kisses all over Brian's neck, face, shoulders, and chest as he waited for his answer. Brian knew he couldn't hold out much longer…...just a few more seconds of torture was about all he could take….and when the answer finally _did _come from his lips, it was said so softly that it was barely audible.

"What?" Justin asked, trying to make sure he had heard what he thought he had heard.

Brian cleared his throat as Justin pulled back to gaze into his eyes. A little more loudly now, he repeated what he had just said. "I said….saints and begorra, laddie…..we're off to Ireland," he repeated with a distinct Irish brogue as he curled his lips under in that little boy look that always made Justin's heart melt.

Justin squealed as his entire face lit up in excitement. "Really?" he said animatedly. "Ireland? Home of your ancestors?"

Brian smiled. "Well, I figure if my father is named Fintan O'Connor, the least I can do is find out what sort of stock he's from. Somewhere back in the family tree there's got to be a line of men with big dicks."

Justin laughed. "Indubitably," he agreed. "Speaking of which…..let me help with one in particular."

"I thought you'd never ask," Brian murmured, as he reached around Justin's neck to pull him into a deep kiss.


	2. Two Paths On a New Journey

_Next Morning _

"Damn it!"

Tony slowly opened one eye and turned his head toward the sound of his partner's voice – it wasn't Fin's normal "time to get up" of "I want a morning fuck" voice. There was nothing sensual or tender in that voice. It was a voice that Tony was used to hearing from time to time when the man he loved was angry and upset instead.

He raised himself up in their bed to look for his partner, noticing the double French doors were open from their bedroom out onto their attached balcony; from the looks of the sunshine already pouring in, it had to be after 9:00 a.m. A warm, slight breeze was slowly ruffling the sheer, maroon-colored curtains back and forth in the open doorway, hinting at an unusually warm day for mid-day spring.

On warmer days like these, it wasn't unusual to find his partner out on the balcony; Fin often liked to sip his first cup of coffee out there in the morning when it was warm and peruse the morning newspaper and online news sources before heading into the Senate office building. Tony relished days like these, however, because on Sundays he could normally convince his partner to ease up just a little and take things a little more slowly. Something was obviously bothering Fin, however, from the sound of his exasperated voice.

Tony slowly turned to plant his feet on the hardwood floor and reached over to a nearby chair back for his royal-blue, knee-length silk robe; wrapping it around his waist and tying it, he plodded out to the doorway toward his partner.

Fin noticed his approach out of the corner of his eye and sighed as he made contact with his lover. "I don't believe this!" he growled, swiveling his laptop toward the blond. "Look at this!"

Tony walked over to study the color photo that was flashed on the screen. It was from one of the rag news sites on the web – something with the ridiculous name of the _Pulse of Pennsylvania_. He raised his eyes in surprise before commenting, "Well, at least they got my good side. I wonder if I could get a print of it."

The photo was the one apparently taken last night by some stranger's cell phone while they were dancing at Brian and Justin's reception. The two were looking deeply into each other's eyes, their hands wrapped firmly around each other's waists as they swayed in time to the hypnotic beat. Fin had a tender smile on his face as he gazed down at the younger man, who was lovingly staring back at his partner. It was obvious by the looks on their faces, as well as the proprietary placement of their hands on each other's backs, that this was a couple in love. Even if it had been 'normal' for two men to be dancing with each other, it would be readily apparent that this was not the case of two casual friends enjoying a good time at a social occasion. Their deep emotion was written all over their faces.

"This isn't funny, Tony!" Fin groused, rubbing one hand through his tousled, brunet hair. "I haven't even started my candidacy for governor yet and I've already got a big controversy on my hands! My opponent's going to have a field day with this!"

Tony placed his hands on his hips in disbelief. "Fin…..you call this a _big controversy_?"

Fin huffed. "What would _you_ call it?" He pointed to the large caption under the photo, which said, _ Gubernatorial Candidate and His Lover Exposed at Party._

Tony walked around the square, glass-topped table to take a seat next to his agitated lover. Despite how far they had come over the past few weeks, it was apparent that he was more comfortable with being out in the open then his partner was. "I call it two people in love having a good time at your son's wedding," he replied softly, placing one of his hands comfortingly on the brunet's shoulder and giving it a slight squeeze. "The only _exposing _going on there is the asshole who had the audacity to take the photo in the first place."

Fin sighed at his lover's soothing touch. "This is going to be even harder than I realized, Tony," he confessed, turning to gaze into the soft blue eyes. "I'm not naïve. I know I'm going to be the subject of intense scrutiny for the next several months. I know every inch of my life – _our _lives – is going to be put through a fine-toothed comb. I know we will be hounded everywhere we go from now on, and I was expecting that to happen."

He shook his head in exasperation. "I was just hoping, I guess, that for one night – just one fucking night – you and I could actually enjoy ourselves without having to worry about someone breathing down our backs and making a record of it for everyone on the web to see." He flipped the laptop shut in disgust. "I still can't believe how fast these things get posted. Next thing you know they'll be writing about the pajamas I woke up in this morning."

Tony snorted softly as he gazed over at his lover's present attire – he was wearing a pair of lightweight, beige, silk lounging pajamas that hugged his gently-muscled hips; they were tantalizing perfect against the man's bronzed skin. "I know you – remember, we sleep together; you didn't _have _any pajamas on when you woke up this morning. You put those on just to come out on the balcony."

Despite Fin's lack of modesty when it came to parading around their rather secluded home, when he was any place on the grounds where there was even the slightest chance that he could be caught by a long-range telephoto lens of any magnitude, he always made sure he was somewhat clothed. It surprised Tony that the man didn't refuse to be seen at all with him, too, but he wasn't about to point that out, especially this morning. They _did_ have an elaborate security system as well as guards 24/7, so both men were fairly certain that their home was the one place where they could let their guard down as well as their inhibitions about political correctness.

Fin curled his lips under. "Okay, I'm busted. You know me _too_ well." He smiled tenderly at the blond. "I was just using that as an example. You know what I'm trying to say."

Tony dropped his hand and laid it in his lap to peer intently back at his lover. "Actually, I'm not totally sure," he admitted, staring into the hazel eyes. "You're not sorry you came out to the press about you and me, are you?"

Fin reached over to squeeze his partner's hand and shake his head. "No fucking way," he avowed, making Tony's heart warm at the sound. "I'm not saying that at all." He intertwined their fingers together as he added, "I guess I was just rethinking what you had said about Brian being my campaign manager. After this, maybe that's not such a good idea. It's going to be bad enough with our relationship being played out in the public eye; once they realize that Brian is not only my out-of-wedlock son but gay as well? I'm shocked this article didn't bring that up – surely the man who was at the wedding knew about my connection with him." He let out an agitated breath. "Tony, they're going to use this to their advantage to pull all the right-wing conservatives into their camp, I just know it."

"Fin, surely that's not a surprising revelation. You knew that was going to be the case _before_ I brought up Brian's name. They would do that whether he's in charge of your campaign or not. We'll just have to draw from your own supporters – the liberal, gay, and just good-old common-sense constituents. Stop second-guessing yourself, _Senator_ – it will work out, you'll see." Tony's eyes bored into his partner's with that _I'm not taking any prisoners_ look he had perfected so long ago; it was the same look he employed whenever he was in court, passionately pleading a client's case that he felt so strongly about.

Fin lifted his gaze to peer out thoughtfully at their backyard; from their second-floor viewpoint, he could just barely make out the stables behind the large thatch of thick pine trees gracing their lawn; he noticed both Samson and Willful, their two horses, were out in the paddock, no doubt enjoying the warm sunshine of what promised to be a beautiful spring day. For just a moment, he wished he could be as carefree as their horses were.

He turned to look back at his partner, who hadn't taken his eyes off him. He smiled wryly. "I guess I'm queening out a little, huh."

Tony twisted his mouth and grinned. "Your words, not mine." His face sobered a little as he softly said, "Nothing worth fighting for is normally easy, Fin," he shrewdly pointed out. "Someone has to take the first steps. And I don't think Brian is the kind to back down from a fight; I think he's the _perfect_ campaign manager and just the person to take the bull by the horns and run with it – all the way to the Governor's mansion."

The older man reached over to place his hand lightly on his determined partner's cheek. "How did I get so lucky to find you, Counselor?"

Tony smiled. "You can thank the white-collar embezzler I was prosecuting." The two of them had met inside the Federal District Courthouse in Harrisburg several years ago when Fin had scheduled a luncheon date with the county prosecutor; at the time Tony was working under him as an assistant. From the moment he had been introduced to the fiery blond with a passion for justice, he couldn't take his eyes off him. He _still_ couldn't.

Fin smiled as he leaned over to place a brief but firm kiss on the resolute lips.

"Careful, Senator," Tony chided him. "You don't know who might have climbed one of the pine trees back there to get a better look."

Fin smiled against the other man's lips as he began to untie Tony's sash holding his robe together. The blond gasped as he felt Fin stroking the pale skin of his thighs before he honed in on his cock and gave it a firm squeeze. "Well, in that case, let's give 'em a show to remember," he huskily whispered as he deftly pushed the silky garment off his partner's shoulders and Tony chuckled. For just a few minutes, the real world was quickly – and blissfully – forgotten.

* * *

_Britin – Same Time_

"Want some, Daddy?"

Brian smiled down tenderly at his son, who was standing next to him at the kitchen table holding out a bottle extended toward him, and shook his head. "Thanks, Little Man, but Daddy's full right now. My tummy doesn't have any more room, even for chocolate milk."

Truth was, he hadn't really eaten much – just a piece of dry wheat toast and a few bites of an egg white vegetable omelet that Lindsey had literally scrambled together about an hour ago. He was too restless at the moment to eat much; Justin was still running around upstairs getting his things together for their trip and if they didn't leave in the next few minutes, they stood the risk of missing their flight altogether.

He sighed in impatience as he scooted back from his chair and reached down to pick his son up; it was time to take matters into his own hands and hurry a certain blond along. "Come on, Sonny Boy, let's go find Justin and find out what he's up to, okay?"

Gus nodded as he placed one little hand around his daddy's neck and held on tight to the plastic jug of chocolate milk with his other. "He's upstairs, Daddy. He's in his 'tudio."

Brian chuckled. "Oh….the _'tudio._ I should have guessed. Well, let's go get him. It's time for him and Daddy to leave for our trip."

As they walked out of the kitchen, Brian was glad that he had managed to mollify his son somewhat over the fact that he couldn't go with them; he had to promise to bring him back a souvenir and also take him on a trip when he got back. He recalled how much his son had enjoyed his recent fishing trip with his newly-discovered great-grandfather, Sean; he had been so immensely proud of the not-so-big fish he had caught that day. Truth be told, _he_ had enjoyed it immensely, too; it had given him a chance to get to know his grandfather better and he had been quite impressed with the man's acceptance of him and his son.

Perhaps when he and Justin got back, the three of them could take Sean's boat back out for an encore expedition. Justin would be welcome, too, but he had the distinct impression that Justin didn't quite have the same enthusiasm for the sport as his son and Sean did; he seemed to prefer a _different_ kind of hooking up….He smiled as he thought about just how much time they were about to devote to that particular sport as he slowly ascended the steps in search of his favorite blond artist.

As they neared the studio he could hear a lot of rattling near the door. He shook his head in amusement as he gently placed Gus down on the ground and clasped his hand. As they entered the spacious, sunlit room, he spied Justin hurriedly grabbing several sketchpads and a box of charcoals from a brown wicker storage basket that he kept underneath his drafting table.

"Justin….."

The blond popped his head around the table legs suddenly to eye his husband sheepishly. "I was just getting some supplies to draw with."

Brian smirked; he knew there was no way his husband was going on a honeymoon empty-handed. To Justin, not having art supplies was almost as bad as going without a hand or a foot.

"Justin, if we don't leave right away there's a good chance we're going to miss our flight, and then you won't _need_ any supplies," he warned the other man, placing his hand on his hip impatiently. "We need to go NOW….unless you'd rather honeymoon in the Ozarks instead."

"Now," Gus repeated solemnly as he, too, placed a small hand on his hip in a perfect imitation of his father. "Come on, Jus'n," the little boy scolded. Suddenly thinking of something, he turned to his father inquisitively. "Daddy, what are Ozarks? Is that a fish?"

Brian couldn't help laughing. "No, Sonny Boy. That's the place where all bad little husbands go when they're running late for their own honeymoon," he told his son as he gazed pointedly over at his wayward husband.

"Okay, okay, I'm coming," Justin groused as he quickly stood up and, wiping his hands on his jeans to get the dust off, rushed over to the two 'men.' "I'm ready," he announced as he reached over to gently tousle Gus' hair affectionately and smile gently at him. "I just need to grab my suitcase."

"I'll help you, Jus'n," Gus volunteered.

Justin nodded as he glanced over at Brian and they shared a mutual, tender look. "I'd like that, Buddy."

As he dutifully followed his 'second father' down the hallway, heading toward the master bedroom, Brian's heart warmed as he watched the two walk away, Gus' little hand clasped comfortably in his husband's. _My two guys_, he couldn't help thinking as an unexpected lump formed in his throat as he watched them go, thinking how damn lucky he had been in his life. He not only had a ready-made family, but thanks to Justin, he also had a new one he was going to enjoy getting to know better. Thank God they weren't anything like Jack and Joan Kinney; now he could look forward to a _real _family for a change.

Fifteen minutes later, the two men were finally on their way to the airport in Justin's SUV. Thankfully, Justin had taken Brian's advice and only packed one suitcase for their two-week trip; he had tried to convince the blond that with the activities he had in mind for them, he could pack quite lightly, but Justin had merely glared at him and told him he wanted some additional activities that actually included being clothed as a prerequisite, a condition that Brian reluctantly agreed to. He knew there would be plenty of time for their normal 'recreational activities' on their trip, anyway; even though they had been together for some time now, their passion for each other hadn't diminished at all. In fact it had gotten even more sweet and intense over time.

He glanced over at Justin, who turned in his seat to smile at him. He fulfilled an urge to reach over and take his husband's hand to give it a squeeze as he noticed the excitement in Justin's eyes. "That eager to finally have some private fucking time with me, Sunshine?" he teased as his hand lightly stroked the soft, warm flesh.

"Got an awfully high opinion of yourself, don't you?" Justin quipped, twisting his lips playfully.

Brian released the pale hand to reach over and squeeze Justin's thigh through his jeans. "Sure do….and I've worked _hard _to get there; _very_ hard."

Justin rolled his eyes at the typical innuendo, but couldn't help grinning as he placed his hand over Brian's to still it when it threatened to creep closer to his cock. "Very well deserved, too," he agreed, smiling as he held onto the wandering hand. "But you're just going to have to wait to cement your _reputation_ a little longer."

"But we've got plenty of time for a blow job," he pointed out.

"You can drive and give me head at the same time?" he asked innocently, his blue eyes twinkling.

Brian snorted. "Not _hardly_," he quipped. "I had something else in mind." He curled his lips under and looked over at Justin hopefully in that irresistible, naughty-little-boy look that normally got him whatever he wanted.

Justin smirked as he twisted his lips in amusement. "Some things never change," he complained good-naturedly as he began to unlatch his seatbelt and Brian grinned. Yes, it was going to be a great fucking honeymoon…..

* * *

_Two Hours Later_

"Ah," Justin sighed as they made themselves comfortable in their first-class seats; they had chosen the two located in the last room in front of a partition that separated the more upscale, leather seats from the economy class seats section. "I could get used to this," he said as he settled into his wide, soft-gray seat.

Brian smiled over at him. "For someone who's never been a label queen, you sure like the finer things in life, Sunshine, at least when I'm footing the bill," he quipped. "You make more enough money now to afford this same luxury on your own, you know."

Justin grinned. "I know….I just don't like to waste my money if I don't have to."

"_Now _you tell me," Brian replied. "If I'd known it didn't matter where you sat, I could have put you back near the bathroom for the flight. Then I could have gone back there periodically to drag you in for a fuck or two and it would have saved me a lot of money."

Justin smacked him lightly on his thigh. "I don't think so, _Mr. Kinney_. There's only one way I want a sore ass on this flight and it's not by sitting back there in an aisle seat."

Brian leaned over to whisper in the younger man's ear. "Don't worry, Sunshine, I definitely plan on your ass getting sore later by much more pleasant means. You can stay right where you are."

Justin couldn't help shivering a little at Brian's sexy promise as he rolled his eyes. "Gee, thanks."

The two men's conversation was interrupted as a flight attendant walked up; she was tall, with green eyes and brunet hair, wearing a tailored, navy-blue two-piece pants suit with a pair of stylish, silver wings on her lapel.

"Mr. Kinney?" she asked, smiling courteously. Brian nodded as Justin looked over at them curiously. "Here's what you requested," she advised him, handing him two tall glass flutes of liquid. It was apparent from the color of the drink that it wasn't Brian's normal concoction. As the woman glanced down at the striking couple, she noticed the gleaming bands of gold on their hands and somehow she just knew. "Oh, and congratulations," she said with a wink as she turned and left.

Brian smiled at her graciously as she left; he turned to face his husband to hand him one of the glasses. "I thought this was more appropriate than our usual shot of Beam," Brian explained almost shyly as he held his own glass out toward the blond and lifted it slightly.

Justin's face broke out into a beaming smile at the unexpected sentimentality. "Brian…." he murmured emotionally.

Brian responded with a shrug. "Just don't expect me to spout a bunch of sappy shit to go with it," he warned softly. "I already was forced to endure that at the ceremony." He gave Justin a warm smile, however, as he whispered, "Here's to a great honeymoon, Sunshine," before he raised his glass and clinked it gently against his husband's before taking a small sip in salute.

Justin smiled back at him before he, too, downed a bit of the effervescent drink, his blue eyes peering over at his husband lovingly as he drank. As he put down his glass on the tray, he started thinking about the subject of their toast. "Tell me more about Ireland, Brian," he asked. "I've always wanted to go there. Where are we staying? What are we going to see there?"

"Who said we were going anywhere beyond our bedroom?" he whispered huskily, reaching over to squeeze Justin's thigh briefly before their hands found each other to link together. "I warned you already about not over packing."

Justin huffed. "If that's all we were going to do, we could have just stayed at Britin – or the Ozarks, for that matter. No offense, but I want to see something besides your dick while we're there." He glanced around to make sure no one was overhearing their conversation, before, satisfied that none of the other passengers seemed interested in their discussion, he said, "I'll guess I'll just have to check it out for myself." He reached over to the back seat pocket with his free hand and pulled out a small-sized paperback.

Brian eyed the book curiously. "Where'd _that_ come from?" He noticed the front cover said _Ireland at a Glance_. "You didn't even know where we were going until last night."

"I picked it up at the bookstore when you went to the men's room," he reported, turning to smile at his husband triumphantly.

Brian shook his head in amusement. "Wonderful," he commented. "And just what do you want to find out about in there?"

Justin snorted. "Well, I won't know until I see it, now will I?" He quickly began to flip through the pages, finding himself getting excited as he glanced at all the glossy color photos of the Irish countryside.

As Justin dwelled on one page in particular, Brian couldn't help leaning over to see what his husband was reading about. The top of the left page was emblazoned with the caption, _Romance in Ireland_. He rolled his eyes silently at his sentimental husband before he noticed what was spelled out on the other page. "The Twenty Best Places to Kiss in Ireland?" he murmured as he laid his head on the blond's shoulder and huffed. "An ass is an ass, no matter _where_ you kiss it."

Justin twisted his head to look at him and smiled a little sheepishly as he realized he had been caught. He pointed to one part of the page in particular in an attempt to slightly veer away from the main subject. "Look – there's a waterfall there," he said, unable to keep the excitement out of his voice. "And all these castles! And look – caves!"

"And sheep," Brian whispered. "Plenty and plenty of sheep."

"And that's baaaaad for ewe how?" Justin couldn't help asking as he looked at him innocently.

"I'm going to pretend you did not say that," Brian retorted, as he took a nip at Justin's earlobe, evoking a slight shiver in response. His warm breath washed over Justin's cheek as the blond turned again to look at him, unable to keep the anticipation of their trip out of his eyes. Brian couldn't help smiling at his husband-turned-kid-in-a-candy-store; it was almost as if they had just met and Justin was once more exploring the exciting world of being a newly-outed gay man. "Sorry, Little Bo Peep, but you'll have to put your tray table back up for now," he advised as the seatbelt light came on and the plane's engine began to come alive with sounds of impending departure. The flight attendant from before hurried down the aisle and retrieved the two now empty champagne glasses from their grasp as they raised their tray tables and seats in preparation for leaving.

As Justin complied and latched his seatbelt together, he decided to keep his book grasped firmly in his right hand for later perusal as he gazed out the window, daydreaming eagerly of their trip together. He felt Brian squeeze his other hand as he twisted around to look at him. "Happy?" he asked quietly, his lips curled under a little almost shyly.

Justin smiled back at him radiantly. "Yes," he simply answered his eyes aglow with anticipation; he looked around to notice they were unobserved before bestowing a quick kiss on Brian's lips. "I love you," he whispered softly as he pulled back slightly to stare into the hazel eyes tenderly staring back.

"Me too, Sunshine. Me too." As the plane slowly backed up, Justin placed his head on Brian's shoulder and sighed in contentment; he didn't give a fuck _who_ noticed.


	3. Honeymoon In Ireland  Day One

_Several Hours Later – Near Galway International Airport_

Justin couldn't help pressing his nose up against the window of the plane as they approached the Galway Airport for a landing; he knew it was so juvenile and he could almost feel Brian's look of amusement behind him, but he didn't care. The idea of spending the next two weeks alone with his new husband in a, dare he say it, romantic setting was just too thrilling for him.

He was a little disappointed to see that it was partly cloudy below but at least the wisps of puffiness didn't hide the rolling, green hillside spread out before him. He squinted as he tried to make out what he was seeing on the terrain until finally their altitude was low enough that he could make them out clearly. Sheep – lots and lot of sheep. Well, Brian was certainly correct about that at least, he thought with a smile, knowing how Brian had declared his total disinterest in the subject. For that reason, he thought it might be best that he not point out what he was seeing.

As the plane began to descend rapidly toward their destination, he felt Brian's hand grasp his wrist. "Give it a rest, Amelia Earhart," he heard him say. "You need to get buckled up anyway."

Justin turned with a sigh away from the scenic vista below him to stare at his husband. Just as he thought; the brunet was smirking at him in amusement. "Well? It's not like I've been here before," he huffed in way of explanation as he reached over to snap his seatbelt into place. "You certainly haven't been a wealth of information yet regarding where we're going when we arrive."

"Well, it wouldn't be much of a surprise if I did, now would it?" Brian curled his lips under at the expression of irritation on Justin's face. In his best baby talk impersonation, he said, "Ah, poor widdle Justin doesn't like surpwises?" He chuckled softly as he had received a smack on his arm in return.

"Depends upon what sort of surprise it is," the blond muttered mainly to himself. He glared over at Brian who merely laughed at his expression of annoyance.

"Don't worry, Sunshine, you'll find out soon enough – we're about to land." He smiled as he noticed Justin's eyes light up with excitement, despite his exasperation with him. He knew that as soon as he saw where they would be staying, any aggravation he had put him through would be quickly replaced with delight. He would probably never be able to express to his husband just what it meant that Justin had found his real family as his wedding present to him, but he was hoping that their honeymoon adventure would help to show him instead.

As the plane made its final descent in preparation for landing, he reached over to clasp the smaller hand and glance over at his husband, who rolled his eyes at him and pursed his lips together for a couple of seconds before Brian gave him that _who, me?_ look and he finally curled his fingers around his hand in return. "Asshole," the blond said softly, shaking his head as he smiled and Brian chuckled.

* * *

An hour later they found themselves in their rental car as Brian prepared to drive away from the airport.

"A Mercedes convertible, Brian?" Justin murmured dryly as he settled into the leather seat of the expensive silver sedan.

Brian glanced over at him from behind the driver's seat. "Uh…Your point being, Sunshine? I don't do Volkswagens."

The blond licked his lips and bit back the reply he might have said in response to Brian's statement. "No, I guess you don't," he admitted. "So where are you and the Mercedes taking me? Are you finally going to give me a little hint now?"

Brian started up the smooth-running motor and slowly pulled out of the Galway Airport. "Look in the glove compartment and maybe you'll be able to figure it out," he said mysteriously. He smiled as Justin quickly popped open the compartment where the brunet had stashed some of their hotel information and waited for the expected explosion of excitement. He didn't have long to wait as he glanced over to see Justin quickly scanning a brochure describing the hotel they would be staying in for the next two evenings before they moved onto their next destination.

"Shit!" Justin exclaimed. "The Q Hotel? I've heard of that place! Do you know who designed it? Sergio Morales! It's supposed to be one of the finest examples of modern art in the world! I can't wait to see it! How did you _know_?" he exclaimed in amazement, his eyes sparkling with joy and wide as saucers.

Brian grinned, thoroughly delighted with Justin's response. It was just the one he had been hoping for; the blond's face was lit up like a little kid at Christmastime. "I take it you approve of my choice?" he asked dryly as he curled his lips under. His question was met with Justin flinging his arms around his neck and smothering his face with butterfly kisses in response. For just a moment, his husband was the same, animated teenager he had been when they had first met, and it felt wonderful that he could make him so happy. It was nice, too, that the two of them could spend this time alone together; something told him with his father's campaign coming up, it might be a long while before they would be able to enjoy this type of privacy again.

"I'll take that as a yes," Brian said, laughing as he placed his arm around his husband's shoulders. "Good. We should be there in just a little while; it's not very far. And just wait until you see our suite," he said softly. He had made sure to book one of only three such spaces at the hotel; he had researched hotels thoroughly and had settled on this contemporary, opulent facility for their first honeymoon night together. He couldn't wait to enjoy every minute of it with the man he was holding in his arms right now. He tightened his grip on Justin as he felt him snuggle into his side and sigh. Yes, he knew what he was doing could be described by that word that he had always detested: _romantic_. But strangely enough, he no longer cared. The only thing he cared about right then was making this man happy. He couldn't help the smile on his face as he drove toward their hotel, his husband's head on his shoulder.

"Sleepy?" he whispered as he placed his head on top of the blond mop of soft hair.

"Just a little," was the admission as Justin snuggled in a little closer to him.

"Well, I'll let you rest up when we get there," Brian promised. "You'll need your strength for later."

Justin raised his head to look into Brian's eyes. "Oh? Whatever for? A little diving in the pool?"

Brian grinned. "Yeah…..something like that," he whispered meaningfully as he briefly gave his husband a soft kiss on the cheek before turning his eyes back to the road.

* * *

Fifteen minutes later, they pulled up in front of the hotel and Justin gasped at the incredible sight. It was absolutely stunning. The entire façade of the hotel was encased in wall to wall glass panels. In the waning light of the afternoon, the soft shades of blue and purple floodlights facing the front of the hotel were beginning to emerge. He could see inside into the lobby, where what had to be the largest chandelier he had ever seen was aglow with hundreds of lights. "Brian….this is beautiful," he murmured appreciatively as he stared in wonder at the sight.

Brian smiled as he slowed the vehicle down to a stop and a white-gloved, uniformed valet opened his car door to welcome them to the hotel. A few seconds later, the same man walked around to perform the same function for Justin, who emerged from the car with his mouth agape. Brian grinned at his reaction as he took Justin by the sleeve. "Come on, let's go check it out, okay?" he encouraged him. A wide smile on his face, Justin simply nodded as Brian took him by the sleeve and led him into the lobby.

The entire lobby of the hotel was sleek and contemporary, from the curved, polished wooden front desk to the gold panels and matching, rounded gold columns scattered throughout the spacious sitting areas. As Brian checked them in, Justin just stood there and drunk it all in, from the glass walls surrounding the hallway to the quirky use of color throughout the space. He noticed the hallway contained a red carpet runner which was bathed in a flood of pink recessed lights on either side. The entire effect was both striking and unexpected and he was absolutely fascinated with all of it.

"This way, gentlemen," the distinguished-looking bellman told them with a nod as he led them down the hallway to a set of polished, gold-colored elevators. The dark-haired man, who was wearing a maroon-colored hat and uniform, discretely studied the pair as held the door open for them and they entered ahead of him, noticing the matching wedding bands gleaming on their hands as they stood next to each other at the back of the car with their fingers intertwined.

The hotel was renowned for accommodating all types of guests, so the fact that these two apparently were married to each other didn't faze him much, even in Catholic-dominated Ireland. Besides, it was obvious by the looks on their faces as they gazed at each other that they only had eyes for one another; to them, he was practically an inanimate object as he rode with them up to the top floor of the hotel toward one of the three, exclusive luxury suites. Whoever these men were, they could obviously afford the very best because these three rooms were reserved for the top of the class where money was no object.

"First time to Ireland?" he asked politely as the two men finally broke their stares to look at him in acknowledgement as if for the first time.

Justin nodded with a smile. "Yes. This hotel is incredible," he commented appreciatively. "The lobby was spectacular; Morales used such an unexpected but dramatic use of texture and color for it."

"Justin's an artist," Brian explained with a smile. "He's into design more than most guests, I would imagine."

The bellman nodded cordially as he addressed Justin. "Well, Sir, if you liked the lobby, just wait until you see your suite; it was designed exclusively by the artist himself. It's one of a kind, just like the other two."

Justin beamed in anticipation; he could hardly contain his excitement. He had heard about this hotel when he was in New York; the designer had been in attendance at one of his art shows and had displayed some of his own artwork during the same exhibition. Justin had found his unusual use of color combinations fascinating, and now he was staying in the only hotel he had designed. Somehow, he knew that Brian had researched where they could stay extensively and had picked this one deliberatively because he knew how much he would love it. It was just one more way that Brian told him how he felt without saying a word, and his heart threatened to explode with the knowledge.

They disembarked from the elevator onto the fourth floor as the bellman indicated for them to follow him down the right side of the shiny, gold hallway; it was the same type of opulent styling from the lobby and spoke volumes regarding the quality and cost of materials that had been used. He finally paused at the end of the hall and pushed the hotel card into the slot to open the door to their suite.

Both men's mouths hung open in astonishment as the bellman entered with their luggage. "I'll place these in the bedroom, gentlemen," he told them politely, grinning at their reaction to the accommodations. It happened every time when a new guest saw the "Artisan" suite for the first time; the word elegant didn't begin to describe it. The entire suite was decorated uncharacteristically in rich shades of beige, gold, and bright purple, befitting the artist's unusual eye for color. The living room contained a solid purple suede couch with a round, glass-topped coffee table placed in front of it and a low-slung light wood cabinet that ran the length of the entire side wall, which was made entirely of glass panels that let in the amazing view of the River Corrib, the wide expanse that connected the lake and sea together. The water set against the background of gently sloping mountains behind it was an incredible view as the sun began its slow journey toward sunset and the sky was washed in shades of pink, lavender, and blue.

"Will there be anything else, Sir?" the bellman asked Brian, who he observed had his arm around the blond's waist as Justin continued to study every feature of their temporary living quarters. Brian turned slightly, digging into his pocket to retrieve his wallet, before saying, "No, thanks," and taking out a ten-dollar bill to give to him. With a nod of thanks, then, the bellman – ever the epitome of tact and grace – nodded and quietly left the two men alone as he softly shut the door behind him with a knowing smile.

Finally alone, the pair turned to face each other as Brian reached up to softly stroke Justin's cheek, mesmerized as he always was by the blue eyes that were staring back at him in amazement and incredulity. "Like the suite?" he asked softly, already knowing the answer – it was written all over his husband's beautiful face.

"Are you kidding me?" Justin whispered; he took Brian's hand and eagerly pulled him over to the wall of windows that were bathed even more now in a kaleidoscope of spectacular light from the waning sun. "The view is unbelievable," he breathed out in awe as Brian placed his arm back around his waist and they stood at the windows, quietly observing the magnificent, ever-changing panorama just outside. As the sun slowly began to sink into the horizon, Brian gently turned him in his arms to stare into the familiar blue eyes; the light from the quickly-disappearing sunset was reflected in Justin's pupils, making them glow with a rainbow of colors. "Yes, it is," he whispered tenderly, finding his voice choked all of a sudden with emotion. "It's absolutely beautiful."

Justin blushed at the look on Brian's face; he shook his head slightly as if in disbelief. They had waited so long for this moment, so long to finally get to this place in their lives. The wedding and reception had been everything he could have dreamed of, and now here he was, in a wondrous place, with the only person he would want to be there with. At that moment, it was all so perfect – so perfect it almost felt surreal. He was almost afraid it was all a wonderful dream instead of reality.

Brian frowned slightly at the somewhat distant look on Justin's face. "What is it?" he asked with a small amount of concern.

Justin smiled as he reached up to place his arms around Brian's neck to link them together and smile reassuringly. "Nothing," he told him. "It's perfect, Brian. _"You're_ perfect."

Brian smiled back in relief as he curled his lips under in that way that always made Justin melt. "I am, aren't I?" he replied facetiously.

Justin grinned up at him. "Yes, you are, _Mr. Kinney_. In fact, why don't I just show you how perfect you are? I think I'm ready to take a dive into the pool right now."

"No room service first?" Brian asked. Even with their first-class seats on the plane, their so-called 'meal' had been woefully inadequate, especially when his husband's appetite for food was concerned. Justin had to be starving at the moment. "I can have them bring us up some dinner," he offered, but it really wasn't what he wanted right now.

"Uh, uh," Justin whispered huskily. "Later; I need to satisfy my _other_ appetite first."

Brian's face broke out into a tender smile. "I think I can deal with that," he said, as he reached over to tug on Justin's shirt as his husband obligingly lifted his hands up to help him discard it. "Why don't we go check out our bedroom?" Brian suggested, waggling his eyebrows. "We're supposed to have a king-sized bed in there."

Justin smiled as Brian took his hand and began to lead him into the other room. "I would expect nothing less," he said to him as they walked over and peered inside their sleeping quarters. This room was as opulent as the living room, decorated in the same shades of gold and beige with touches of white on the pillows and in the wall hanging positioned above the bed. A large, gold platter sat on the corner of the elegantly-appointed bed with two plates covered by tall, domed lids. There was another wall of windows to the right of the bed facing out onto the water and trimmed with gold-colored curtains, with a low-slung, matching fabric-covered bench nestled underneath it. A classically-detailed desk with a gold-tufted chair sat unobtrusively in the corner next to a small bar that had a gold tray with two squat crystal glasses surrounding a matching square-shaped liquor decanter with an amber-colored liquid inside.

"This is mind-boggling," Justin murmured. "I feel like Midas with all this gold." He turned to Brian who was smiling at his reaction. "Speaking of which, this is really over the top, Brian. I would have been just as happy in a cottage, you know, as long as we were together."

Brian leaned down to nuzzle the tender flesh at Justin's neck where he knew it always made him crazy with desire and horny as hell. "I know," he whispered. "But I wanted the best for our honeymoon. And I wanted the best for you," he said almost shyly as he pulled back to stare into his husband's eyes.

Justin pursed his lips as he felt the tears of happiness stinging his eyes. "You are really something, Brian Kinney," he replied softly. "…And I love you so much."

"I'm glad," Brian whispered huskily. "Because I feel the same way. But you know I'm more of a results man. So why don't you show me instead?"

Justin smiled as he reached over to begin unbuttoning Brian's shirt. "Gladly," he replied as the two leaned in for a brief but passionate kiss. As they broke apart, Brian began to unbutton his shirt sleeves as Justin finished with the rest. As Brian's shirt was discarded onto the floor, he gently walked Justin backwards toward the white-bedecked, king-size bed. "Think we'll get out of bed before the cleaning lady comes tomorrow?" Justin whispered teasingly as Brian gave him a shove and he fell onto the mattress, his body bouncing lightly on the tightly-made surface.

Brian loomed over him, his arms supporting his body weight on either side of Justin's slender form as he leaned down. "Not if _I_ have anything to say about it," Brian growled. "She can get her _own_ man." Justin actually giggled as Brian swooped in for a heart-stopping kiss, his lips plundering the other man's as Justin sighed in contentment.

"I don't think I'm very sleepy anymore," he decided as they broke apart and Brian reached down skillfully with one hand to unsnap Justin's jeans and pull them along with his briefs partly down the slender legs.

Brian licked his lips and smiled playfully as he gazed down at Justin's cock which had sprung obediently to attention. "Nope, doesn't look very tired to me," he teased. Justin sighed impatiently as the brunet stood up momentarily to remove his shoes and socks so he could pull his pants and briefs all the way off now.

He couldn't help gazing with appreciation, however, as Brian took advantage of his position to do the same to the rest of his own outfit; moments later, both men were nude as they paused to admire each other's bodies. By now, they both knew them literally inch by inch; where to touch, where to lick, where to suck, where to kiss to make each other crazy. But that knowledge still never kept each man from pausing to drink in the sight of each other before they once more began their dance of passion again.

From the look of outright lust on Brian's face, Justin expected his husband to swoop in and fuck him immediately, hard and rough. He wouldn't have had an objection to that, mind you; it would no doubt be exciting and mind blowing – it always was – and then he knew they would eventually return again later to explore each other's bodies with a slower, sweeter pace. After all, it was their 'day after the wedding' night; technically, last night was their official wedding night, but they had spent it at Britin. This was their first 'honeymoon' night together and he knew no matter how they made love, it would always be special.

But Brian surprised him. He slowly lowered his long, lean body to lie next to him on his side and stare at him silently. Justin frowned, reaching over to place a harmless love nip on his chin. "Brian?" he asked softly as he pulled back to stare into the intense hazel eyes. Brian reached over to take his hand and place it on his chest; Justin could feel his husband's heart beating rapidly under his touch. "What is it?" he asked.

"Nothing," Brian assured him as his eyes bored into his. He finally leaned over so he was staring down into his husband's face and whispered, "I was just thinking about how I'm the luckiest man in the whole fucking town of Pittsburgh…..and West Virginia," he added as an afterthought as he smiled tenderly into the widened blue eyes. "And now I'm the luckiest man in Ireland. To hell with the Blarney Stone," he declared as he slowly leaned down to kiss the soft pink lips.

Justin's heart began to match Brian's rhythm as it beat furiously at Brian's unexpected declaration. Brian Kinney didn't say I love you very often, but what he had just said was pretty damn close. As soon as their lips touched, it was as if a fire blazed anew as Brian draped his long body over Justin's and began to plunder his willing lips and mouth. His tongue snaked out demanding entrance as Justin obeyed, opening his mouth to bid him enter.

He could feel Brian's cock lying hard against his belly as their legs intertwined and he could feel his own body reacting in response. He was growing increasingly impatient to be possessed by his husband as Brian slowly began to stroke his shoulders and the side of his waist, anywhere his hands could reach while he remained draped over him like some warm, sensuous blanket. "Brian…."he pleaded.

The brunet smiled slightly in understanding as he rolled off the blond to lie on his stomach, his face lying to the side on folded elbows as he turned to look into the quizzical blue eyes expectantly.

"Brian?" Justin whispered, not wanting to misunderstand his husband's intentions; it wasn't as if Brian never permitted him this incredible experience, but to allow it on the first night of their honeymoon….. "You want me to…"

"Yes," the brunet breathed out huskily. "_Do it_."

Justin's breath hitched in his throat; his mouth practically watered in anticipation at the glorious gift being presented to him so openly, so trustingly. As Brian watched him intently, he almost shyly reached over to lightly trail his slender fingers down the middle of Brian's spine as he noticed the skin ripple in response. His husband's bronzed body was perfectly chiseled, the skin warm and firm to his touch from hours of effort at the gym, riding their horses, and swimming in their pool. His heart pounded as his hand slowly continued lower to the cleft just above Brian's ass and paused there. Despite all the attention men had paid to his own ass, he always thought Brian's had been severely underrated. The man was simply divine from head to toe as he sucked in a shaky breath of nervous anticipation mixed with desire as his eyes roamed over ever curve and angle of Brian's glorious body.

He reached over to retrieve an extra pillow as Brian obligingly raised his lean hips so Justin could place it beneath him. "God, you're so beautiful," he couldn't help whispering as the tip of his tongue came out to nervously lick his lips. He noticed Brian's eyes darkening in response to his action and that somehow served to embolden him somewhat as he reached down with both hands to cup the two taut globes and gently pull them apart to expose the twitching, pink, puckered target he was seeking. He could hear Brian's soft breaths of anticipation as he slowly lowered his body down on top of Brian's lower back and leaned down to inhale the musky scent of his lover.

Brian's skin shivered as he felt the warm breath washing over his skin. The wait for more was almost unbearable but he knew Justin preferred a slower pace sometimes. Apparently, to his consternation, this was going to be one of those occasions. "Justin….." he whispered.

Justin smiled at the feel of the power he held over this magnificent man. He slowly did as he knew Brian was requesting; as he held the two cheeks apart firmly, he curled his tongue and promptly poked a bit of it inside to test Brian's reaction.

The response was heady as well as rapid as Brian's body arched off the bed immediately. Justin spent the next several minutes slowly fucking Brian with his tongue, going deeper each time as he kneaded Brian's ass cheeks and he slowly drove his husband insane in the meantime.

"Fuck, Justin!" Brian growled breathlessly after several minutes. "More!" he hissed out impatiently.

He could feel his husband's breath on his skin as he actually heard him chuckle softly before saying, "We've got all night, Brian. Let me enjoy myself. Indulge me."

Brian arched even more off the bed as he suddenly felt a slender, saliva-coated finger poke itself inside him. "God!" he cried out as another wet finger joined it and curled at just the right angle to hit his sweet spot. "Justin, either fuck the shit out of me right now or I'm going to do a little _indulging_ myself!" He squirmed as Justin's talented fingers once more stroked his prostate and his heart began to pound furiously while he strove to catch his breath enough to speak again. "Fuck me, damn it!" he demanded earnestly.

"I'd love to," Justin whispered, suddenly feeling so powerful, so incredible, and so wonderful that he could reduce such a magnificent man as his husband to a wanton mess of desire for him. He searched for something to help make his next move more comfortable; he knew how tight Brian would feel. Just the very thought was almost enough to make him come. He finally decided his spit would have to do, because there was no way he was passing up this rare opportunity and he wasn't leaving this bed until he took advantage of it.

As Brian reached back to squeeze his leg in silent entreaty for him to get on with, he scooted up to position his cock over the pulsating hole as he took a deep breath and slowly pushed in. It was just like he remembered but even more so – tight, hot, all-encompassing, almost dizzying with the sensation. He could feel each movement of Brian's, each ring of muscle, each slight twitch of his body as he pushed in even more, hearing a loud groan at the contact from his husband. He leaned over Brian's back to kiss the sweaty, salty neck and whisper, "I love you so fucking much, Brian Kinney," before he pulled back out and rammed back in until his balls were flush with Brian's ass. Brian moaned in pleasurable torment as his body arched up each time in perfect synchrony to Justin's thrusts, while their bodies glistened with sweat from their efforts. Justin grunted with the exertion as his pace quickened toward climax; wanting them both to come together, he managed to slide one hand around Brian's torso to grasp the silky, steel-hard cock and pump it in time with his ever-quickening thrusts until he felt Brian tensing beneath him and he cried out with his own exquisite pleasure, pouring his seed inside his husband as Brian soon followed.

Exhausted but elated, Justin remained lying on top of Brian for a few minutes afterward, his chest heaving with the exertion and his heart still beating rapidly like a fluttering bird. He placed his hands around Brian's waist for support until his breathing finally slowed down and he rolled his body reluctantly off Brian's and onto his back.

Brian remained lying on his stomach, facing his husband whose face glowed in happiness. Justin's hair was stuck to his forehead where beads of sweat still glistened. The brunet reached over to tenderly push the matted hair from his husband's forehead and smile. "That…was hot," he whispered as Justin beamed at him in pride and pleasure.

Justin reached over to trace Brian's lips lightly with his fingers. "Thank you," he softly replied. "It was. It was incredible."

Brian reached up to grasp the pale hand with his and gave the palm a gentle kiss. "Yes, we gave the bed a good workout," he agreed, his hazel eyes twinkling. Slowly his breathing became more normal as he asked, "Want to go try out the shower next?"

Justin grinned as he nodded. "You sure we have one?"

Brian gave him an incredulous look. "Believe me, Sunshine, I check these things out ahead of time. You know I'm not a bathtub sort of person." He slowly rose up on his haunches and twisted his body around to sit up on the bed and away from the sticky mess they had just created. He stood up and held his hand out. "Let's go check it out and then we can order room service. We need to reserve your strength for Round #2." Smiling, Justin took Brian's hand as the brunet pulled him from the bed and stole a deep kiss from the dark pink lips.

* * *

_Next Morning_

Justin sighed in contentment as he snuggled back into his husband's chest and felt the strong arms gripping him tighter in response. He knew Brian still detested saying anything that even remotely sounded like "snuggle" or "cuddle" out loud, but he also knew that he had long ago given up admitting that he didn't participate in such activities when they were in bed together. He was pleased to see that there was bright sunlight pouring in through the mass of windows; that meant it would be a perfect day for exploring the surrounding area. When they had arrived late yesterday afternoon, they really hadn't had much of a chance to tour any of the area near Galway. He was excited now to get up and become more familiar with their honeymoon destination. First, though, he had to get his husband out of bed.

After his unexpected 'treat' last night, he and Brian had fucked in the double-stalled, glass-enclosed shower in their massive marble bathroom, and then made love a couple more times before, exhausted beyond belief, they had fallen into a sated slumber around 3 a.m. He raised his head slightly to look over at the crystal clock perched on the nightstand and noticed it was already 10:00, and he was dying for them to take the Mercedes out for a drive into the countryside.

He bent his neck down to place a kiss on the bronze arm circling him possessively. "Brian?" he whispered as his lips made a hot, wet trail of light kisses up the forearm and then his bicep. He finally received a small grunt in reply as his husband shifted slightly behind him. He flushed as he felt the beginning of a hard-on brushing against his ass crack and felt his own cock began to respond in kind. "Oh, no you don't," he softly warned. "I want to go exploring – you keep your dick away from me." He heard a snicker behind him before the rich, baritone voice murmured, "But you've got chocolate in my peanut butter, Sunshine."

Justin laughed; that was certainly a novel way of looking at it. He turned in Brian's arms to find the hazel eyes peering back at him mischievously and he sighed in resignation. Well, he supposed there could be worse ways to wake up. "Okay…I'll suck you off and you can return the favor. But then we're getting out of bed. Remember, I told you – I want to see more than just your cock during our honeymoon, even if it IS right up there with the Seven Wonders of the World."

Brian chuckled. "Well, since you put it that way….."


	4. You Know Me Too Well!

_Same Day - Harrisburg – State Senate Building _

"Shit! Damn it!"

"Problem with your adoring public, dear?" Tony called over facetiously to his lover from his place on the private office's leather couch. He noticed a distinct frown on Fin's face as he glanced over to observe his partner scanning the morning edition of the Harrisburg newspaper.

"They have that same picture in the paper this morning from the reception, along with an article describing how I was attending a gay wedding….."

"Well, that shouldn't be too surprising, considering you're gay yourself," Tony pointed out. "You already disclosed that at the press conference."

Fin brushed his hand through his hair in irritation, his gray eyes flashing as he looked over at the blond. "That's not all, Tony," he said gruffly, rising from his chair to walk over and stand in front of his partner to hand the paper to him.

Tony glanced down at the displayed page, immediately noticing the same exact photo that had been on the internet yesterday that some uncouth guest had taken with his cell phone. He couldn't help smiling a little at the photo, though, even now; it reminded him of what a wonderful time he had had with Fin at Brian and Justin's wedding. They seldom got a chance to be out in public together, let alone dance together, and he had enjoyed it immensely. "I wonder if I could get a copy of this," he murmured, only half-joking.

Fin shook his head in exasperation and huffed out an angry breath. "Read the headline! This isn't funny, Tony," he said sternly, promptly plopping himself down heavily on the couch next to the other man.

Tony's eyes widened as he finally had a chance to read the words directly above the photo: _Gubernatorial Candidate Causes Stir at Gay Son's Wedding. _"Oh, shit," Tony whispered. "This isn't good."

"You noticed," Fin told him dryly as he scowled. "So much for providing security at Brian's wedding." He sighed loudly. "I knew this was going to happen; I mean, how naïve could I be, thinking in this day and age that the news wouldn't get around?" He stared over at his lover. "I was just starting to feel like I was making some headway with my son, Tony; and now this. I don't think Brian's going to be happy one bit when he finds out. He sure as hell won't be happy that one of his supposed _guests_ saw fit to take a photo at the wedding, and apparently make big bucks with it, too." He shook his head. "Damn fucker." He had been ecstatic when Brian had invited him, albeit somewhat grudgingly, to his and Justin's wedding; it had signaled at least a slight thawing in their somewhat frosty relationship. Now he wasn't so sure Brian wouldn't be regretting the decision he had made.

Tony quickly finished scanning the rest of the article, which was located prominently on the first page of the local section, before putting it down on the oval, glass coffee table in front of the couch. "At least they didn't continue the article on a later page – I hate it when they do that."

Fin looked over at his partner like he had grown a second head. "Are you out of your mind, Tony? You're making fucking jokes about this?"

Tony sighed. "Fin...What would you have me do? Gnash my teeth and rail at the unfairness of someone digging into your personal life?" He stared into the darkened, angry eyes of his partner for a few seconds before he curled one side of his mouth upward in sympathy and his voice softened. "Fin….you just made a very public announcement about being gay, having a life partner, and discovering you had a son you didn't even know about. Oh, and incidentally, you might have also mentioned somewhere in there that you were running for governor. Come on, Fin! What did you expect? Seriously. You know how the press is when it comes to political candidates; every little sordid detail – at least sordid to _them_ – is bound to come out between now and November. Are you going to sit there and tell me you didn't see this coming? Did you really expect none of this to get out? You yourself just finished warning me yesterday that our lives were not going to be our own anymore, and I told you I could deal with that. I guess the more important question, though, is – can _you_?"

Fin huffed out a tense breath through his mouth and rubbed his hand over his face. "I thought I could," he admitted. "Now I'm not so sure. Tony, is it worth risking my new relationship with my son over some political ambitions?"

Tony reached over to idly massage his troubled partner's shoulder comfortingly. "Only you can answer that, my love," he said softly. "It's your political life at stake here. But I _will_ say this; Brian's got a lot of you in him, and I have a good feeling he'd just read all that garbage and say fuck 'em all. I don't think he's the type of person to get riled up over some crap like what a so-called, _respectable_ newspaper has in their morning edition. And I think he would be more impressed with you if YOU didn't back down from this fight." He noticed just the hint of an appreciative smile appear on the handsome brunet face as he added, "You know I'll support you no matter what you decide; even if I _don't_ get to live in some fancy governor's mansion." He sighed melodramatically as he shrugged, saying, "I'll just have to be content to live in our rickety little shack with the stables and pool instead."

Fin laughed softly and shook his head. "Baby, what did I ever do without you?" he whispered as he reached over to tenderly brush some errant hair away from the blue eyes; his fingers lingered on the pale forehead for a few seconds before he reached around Tony's neck and gently pulled him forward. As their lips came together for a soft kiss, he heard a polite rapping on the door between his inner office and the outer lobby area and sighed in resignation as he dropped his hand to his side and stood up straight. He smoothed down his suit jacket before saying, "Yes?"

The door slowly opened to reveal his long-time assistant. "Sorry to bother you, Senator….Hi, Tony," Regina said with a polite smile as she nodded over at the blond, who returned her acknowledgment with a smile of his own. "But you wanted me to remind you about the vote for your bill down on the Senate floor at 10:00."

"Shit, I almost forgot!" Fin exclaimed. One of his pet projects, a bill to require larger use of green energy in public schools throughout the state, was due to be voted on in the Senate; in the course of fretting over the article in the morning's paper, he had almost forgotten about it. "I'll be right down. Thanks, Regina." The senator noticed his assistant hesitating. "Was there something else?"

He watched as the elegantly-dressed woman softly closed the door behind her and stood facing him somewhat awkwardly. "Fin…..I know this is really none of my business. But I notice you've seen the morning paper."

Fin snorted. "You mean this rag paper? I used to think the Harrisburg Courier was a _respectable_ publication." He eyed his no-nonsense assistant intently. "What's on your mind, Regina? You normally don't have a problem with speaking your mind."

She smiled ruefully. "No, I don't," she agreed readily, "and this won't be an exception, either. I think you need to address this issue before it gets blown up all out of proportion; you know how the conservative faction is going to view this little salacious tidbit."

Fin raised one eyebrow. "And just how would you recommend I do that?"

The petite, older woman stared back at him, her hands on her hips as she eyed him intently. "You need to get your campaign infrastructure firmly in place. Time's a wasting. You need a PR person and a campaign manager asap. Simply put, Senator, you've put the cart before the horse."

"Excuse me?" Fin replied just a little defensively, turning his head to notice his partner holding his hand over his mouth as if he was trying to keep a chuckle from escaping.

"What she means, Fin, is exactly what I've been trying to tell you. You need to start getting your staff in place. You need a PR person and a campaign manager in the worst way to defect these ridiculous attacks on your personal life that have nothing to do with the issues needing to be addressed. You need someone who's going to keep your campaign on track. And I know of one person in particular who would be perfect for _both_ jobs."

Regina nodded in satisfaction at her co-conspirator. "Good…..then at the risk of sounding impertinent, Fin, take your partner's advice and go grab this person before he or she slips through your fingers!" She smiled a little sheepishly at her boldness as she added a little more softly, "Uh, I mean….. _Senator. _Now if you'll excuse me, I'll let security know you're ready to go down to chambers."

As his assistant turned around to head toward the door and open it, Fin thought he heard the distinctive sound of soft snickering coming from nearby. As his assistant closed the door behind her, Tony couldn't keep quiet any longer; his actually giggled as soon as she was out of earshot. "I like that woman," Tony stated adamantly as Fin glared at him.

"Why do I feel like I'm being conspired against here?" he growled softly as he stared at his partner. "You two didn't meet for an early breakfast today to caucus, did you?"

Tony laughed. "No, sounds like we didn't need to."

"Uh, huh…." Fin stood up. "Well, I hate to leave the two of you alone to conspire further, but luckily for you, I'm due downstairs to vote." He stared down intently into the mischievous-looking blue eyes. "I would tell you to behave while I'm gone, but I know it would just be pointless."

Tony offered a broad smile. "I thought you _liked_ me when I misbehaved."

Fin couldn't help the grin that spread across his own face as he reached down to pull the blond up to his feet. "Thanks for reminding me," he whispered huskily, sliding his hands around the slim waist and pulling the other man in for a deep kiss. He reluctantly pulled back several seconds later to smack his partner lightly on the butt. "Now stop distracting me – I have a bill to vote on." He smiled at his partner's mock look of indignation before turning to hurry out of the room.

Tony smiled at his partner's quickly-disappearing form as he turned to lean down and pick up the local section of the paper. As he looked at the picture of him and Fin once more, he couldn't help thinking of what would be greeting Brian and Justin when they get back. _I hope you have a great honeymoon, guys, because I have a feeling your idyllic time in paradise is definitely going to be over when you get back. _

* * *

_Galway, Ireland – Same Day_

"This is incredible, Brian," Justin murmured as the car deftly navigated a curve along the narrow gravel, two-lane road. The path they were taking was slowly rising in elevation the farther they drove away from the main part of the city toward their destination – a day trip to the Cliffs of Moher which Justin had wanted to check out and was located about an hour and a half from their hotel.

Brian was thankful he had arranged to have room service bring up a gourmet breakfast for his little Picasso this morning since it would be a while until they reached their destination, and he strongly suspected that the journey wouldn't be dotted with a plethora of Justin's favorite fast-food restaurants. It had been the first full meal either of them had partook of since yesterday afternoon, but Justin had still managed to sneak in some appetizers early this morning – in between rounds of fucking, his husband naturally couldn't help checking out exactly what was hidden underneath the two domed lids of food that had been left on their bed. He had been delighted to discover they had held two large containers of chilled jumbo shrimp and chocolate-covered strawberries. Brian had rather grudgingly allowed Justin to serve a few pieces of them to him before he fed the rest to his husband. Of course, he had to linger just a bit as he enjoyed a taste of Justin's fingers, too, in between the combination of chocolate, sweet, and salty kisses; it was a mixture he had found quite intoxicating.

Brian glanced over now at Justin, who was dividing his time between gazing in fascination at the rolling green meadows that surrounded every angle of the roadway and studying his Ireland guide book. He smiled as he inhaled the fresh air of the open sky blowing at them through the top of the convertible and studied the beautiful face of his husband. Justin was always beautiful to him, but here on their honeymoon, his face was almost, dare he think it – _glowing_ with happiness. His eyes were sparkling with fascination at the picturesque scenery that abounded, and the rays pouring down from the cloudless day above made Justin's hair shine with almost blinding intensity. _Sunshine indeed….._

"What?" Justin asked him curiously as he noticed Brian staring over at him unblinkingly.

Brian smiled slightly and shook his head, almost as if he were embarrassed. "Nothing," he replied softly. "Just….admiring the view." He was rewarded with a blush of pink that appeared on Justin's cheeks in response.

"Brian," the blond murmured softly, realizing quickly that Brian wasn't referring to the green, rolling hillside or the sea expanse spreading out to the horizon below them; he was admiring something much closer. He smiled radiantly back at the brunet over the unexpected compliment as he reached over to squeeze Brian's hand lying on the seat between them; Brian shrugged at him a little sheepishly over his uncharacteristically sentimental statement as he linked his fingers with his own.

"So, Arthur Frommer…..what does the book say we should do after we visit the cliffs?"

"Well, we can't come to Ireland without visiting a castle, can we?"

Brian smiled to himself. _If you only knew, Sunshine….._Little did Justin know that he had already arranged for that particular adventure…and in a grandiose way. It was going to be a tightly-held secret for now, though….If Justin was 'appreciative' last night over their luxurious accommodations at the hotel, just wait until he saw what was in store next.

He was harshly jolted out of his daydreaming over last night's marathon round of lovemaking sessions and what he had in store next for his husband by Justin's sudden, high-pitched voice of worry. "Brian, stop!"

The brunet didn't waste any precious time questioning Justin as his foot quickly mashed down on the brake pedal and he looked up from the dashboard to observe what had caused his husband's urgent warning. Directly in front of them, approximately fifty feet away, was a large sea of cotton balls on hoofs slowly meandering unconcerned across the road. A grizzled older man with wrinkles on his brown, sun-baked face was holding a wooden cane as he slowly ambled down the roadway with four border collies crisscrossing excitedly in front of him as they expertly paraded the sheep slowly from one side of the road to the other.

"Oh, my God!" Justin cried excitedly as he whipped out a small, rectangular digital camera from his lightweight jacket pocket and hurriedly turned it on. "It's just like you said, Brian! Sheep! Lots and lots of sheep! Holy shit! Just look at them! There must be at least a hundred of them!"

Brian sat there in the passenger seat, his mouth open in amazement. It was almost like Moses parting the Red Sea, except the 'Red Sea' was white. Well, not exactly white. It was more like the colors of the flag, actually – red, white, and blue. "Is there such a thing as queer sheep?" he wondered aloud as he realized the two of them were undoubtedly going to be stuck in a holding pattern for some time; their invaders weren't apparently in any hurry to cross the road.

Justin quickly snapped a couple of photos before frowning as he realized what Brian had said. "Huh?"

"I said – why are these sheep red, white and blue? Are they Yankee imports?"

Justin laughed. "Oh….I read about that in my trusty little tour book. It's kind of like how they brand cattle out West back home. They do it to keep track of who the sheep belong to."

"Mmmm….weirdest sort of sheep I've ever seen," Brian observed, noticing that several of them were more red, white, blue, and black. "Horny-looking devils…..just like someone _else_ I know."

"Ha, ha….actually, I'm just a horny devil, not horny-_looking," _Justin quickly advised him.

"Oh…I stand corrected," Brian said, curling his lips under in amusement.

The two men watched as the older sheepherder looked their way nonchalantly and gave them a wave of his hand before he slowly crossed the road and began to walk alongside the first wave of sheep, the border collies trotting along obediently at his feet. Unfortunately, the large majority of his flock on the other side weren't in any hurry to join him.

Brian sighed. "Well, I think our 90-minute trip has now turned into more like a 2-hour trip." He gazed over at his partner, who seemed utterly fascinated with this latest turn of events. To look at Justin, you would have thought they had just happened upon a meeting of the greatest artists of the century congregating together, rather than a smelly flock of fleece-covered, flea-bitten sheep. "Well….I for one don't plan on just sitting here watching sheep crossing the road. This is about as exciting as watching a leaky faucet dripping." He gazed over at his husband intently; Justin sensed his stare somehow and turned his head to look into the intense greenish-gold eyes. They had that look he knew so well. "Brian…"

"What? We're alone out here – it's just you, me and a hundred sheep who have better things to do than worry about what we're doing in our car. They're not the only ones that are horny around here, you know." He glanced meaningfully into the backseat. "I say while we're biding our time we do a little _ramming_ of our own. I AM on my honeymoon, you know."

Justin laughed at the brunet's cheesy joke; he always treasured the few times when Brian was relaxed enough to be this light-hearted. "Why, I _didn't_ know that!" he exclaimed in mock surprise. "Why didn't you tell me earlier?" He smiled back at his partner's pitiful look of neglect. He promptly turned his camera off and quietly placed it back in his pocket. "Well, I'll just have to rectify that oversight right now, won't I?" he whispered as Brian grinned back at him.

"I was hoping you would say that," he replied huskily. "Time for me to do a little _herding_ of my own," he remarked. Justin watched in amusement as he opened the driver's door and walked around to the passenger side of the car. "Out," he commanded as he opened the other door and swung it wide.

Justin grinned and did as he was told, only to be promptly swept into a pair of toned, bronze-colored arms as soon as he disembarked. He squeaked softly, startled, as Brian pulled him tightly against him, their bodies pushed together, chest to chest.

As Brian gazed down into the radiant face of his husband, he knew his heart was hopelessly and completely stolen by this beautiful man smiling up at him. _Yep….I'm definitely a lesbian now_, he thought silently as he leaned down more gently than necessary to place a soft kiss on the warm, waiting lips. He could hear the soft bleating of sheep nearby as he slowly ran his tongue out to sweep across the plush mouth, begging for entrance and willingly receiving it.

Justin's hands came up to wander around Brian's back as his heart begin its typical fluttering over the emotions flowing through him at his husband's touch. He knew somehow that this feeling would never end – and his soul rejoiced at the thought.

Five minutes later, Brian had somehow managed to not only get Justin into the backseat of the convertible but also divest him of all his clothing as he draped his long, lean, bare form over him like a warm, sensual blanket. Justin could feel Brian's obvious desire for him as he lay beneath the longer man, their legs intertwined together and their hands linked above Justin's head. Brian's tongue poked out to take a leisurely swipe across Justin's chest on its way up to his mouth to suckle the full, pink lips.

"Okay, you horny little devil," Brian whispered down to him as they finally broke apart and Justin squirmed under him in exquisite anticipation. "Time to break in our rental car the Brian Kinney way."

* * *

_Two Hours Later_

As they approached their destination at last, the rolling hills slowly gave way to a higher elevation as the Mercedes imperceptibly kept climbing until they found themselves at over 700 feet above sea level. As they rounded a curve in the road, Justin had his first glance at the cliffs dominating the water far below.

Brian smiled over at Justin as he heard him gasp at the sight. Brian had to admit as he got his first, real glimpse of their destination that it was breathtaking; a sheer drop of several hundred feet led downward to the white-washed waves that crashed against the dark-colored, almost black rock. The contrast of the bright, green meadowland and the almost royal blue water below, along with the blackness of the cliff rocks, was quite striking. He glanced at Justin, whose hands were almost subconsciously opening and closing as if he had an imaginary pencil in them; he knew exactly what his husband was thinking. As soon as they got out of the car, no doubt a sketchpad and charcoals would be accompanying them wherever they went, along with Justin's trusty digital camera.

As they parked in one of the visitor spaces a few minutes later, Justin barely waited for the car to stop before he yanked open his door and pulled the lever back from his seat to gain access to the back where his art supplies were lying on the floor. He quickly retrieved his sketchpad and pencils as he gazed over at Brian's amused expression and sheepishly smiled. Brian couldn't help grinning back at him over his enthusiasm that was so typically _Justin_….his passion for his art and for life in general had always been one of the things he loved so much about him, and he knew that would never change.

He walked around the car and smiled at Justin as he placed his hand on the small of his back. "Okay, Mr. Artiste – let's go check out your next painting subject," he whispered in Justin's ear as the blond beamed in response.

They spent most of the afternoon there, acting like the other visitors as they toured O'Brien's Tower, built in 1835 at the top elevation of the cliffs as an observation for Victorian tourists. It wasn't quite the castle that Justin was looking for, Brian mused, but nonetheless his husband seemed quite taken with it just the same. Again, he thought of just how enthralled Justin would be with his next choice of accommodation. They would be leaving tomorrow morning for a different part of the country, and their 'home away from home' would prove to be radically different from the Q Hotel they had been staying at. He couldn't wait to see Justin's expression when he saw it. But for now, as they stood on the highest peak of the cliffs, just seeing the expression on his husband's face as he marveled at the craggy expanse below them was reward enough.

At mid-afternoon, they had walked back to the car for Brian to retrieve something out of the trunk. Justin's eyes had lit up in delight as Brian reached in and pulled out a tartan-style blanket and a black, hard-sided rolling tote containing supplies for their own, private makeshift picnic on top of the cliffs.

"One nourishing, high-protein meal deserves another, Sunshine," Brian quipped as Justin looked at him in surprise and blushed at the look in Brian's eyes.

They had found a grassy, windswept spot in a fairly secluded corner away from the other tourists to place their soft blanket on the ground and enjoy a feast of fresh-baked bread, goat cheese, seedless grapes, jumbo-sized cashews and a bottle of wine, as well as share a few surreptitious kisses before stowing their leftover gear back in the car. Justin even persuaded Brian to pose for him, standing with his back to the sea far below; the sun slowly setting in front of the brunet provided him with the perfect lighting for what he knew would be the basis for his next masterpiece; any work of art, though, was always a masterpiece to Justin as long as Brian was the main subject.

As the sun inched farther toward its relentless, sure march to the horizon below, most of the day's visitors had finally left, leaving them blissfully alone on one of the many cliff tops; the sun was awash in shades of gentle hues of pink and lavender as Brian walked up behind Justin and slid his arms around to cradle the lean body against his own. He heard Justin sigh softly in contentment.

"The scenery here is just beautiful," he whispered as he nuzzled Brian's neck, his eyes awash in a rainbow of colors as they reflected the water below and the slowly-setting sun, signaling the end of their second day in Ireland. So far, it had been absolutely glorious, Justin decided, but he would have felt the same no matter _where_ they were – as long as they were together.

Brian smiled against the soft, blond hair. "Yes, it is," he whispered as leaned down and planted a soft kiss on the pale cheek. "….Just like you."

Justin breathed out a smile of his own, his heart threatening to explode with joy. He turned in Brian's arms, his blond hair shimmering in the fading sunlight, just like the water gently waving below them. "God, I love you so fucking much," Justin whispered.

"Me, too, Justin. Me too."


	5. For My Prince

_A/N: This chapter is strictly fluff and PWP, I confess - the next chapter should hopefully wrap up the boys' honeymoon and send them back to Pittsburgh in the midst of the campaign drama that's about to unfold. For those of you who are still reading, I am very appreciative.:)_

* * *

_Later that Evening – Q Hotel_

"You know….I never was a bathtub person before. I always thought it was way too time-consuming and made your skin look too much like a fucking prune," Brian murmured as he slowly soaped the back of Justin's neck with the bar of expensive heather and moss soap. "But I think I could learn to like this," he conceded softly as Justin sighed in happiness over his husband's sensual touch. Brian watched in marvel over how the soap slid so easily over Justin's pale flesh; he always thought he had the most beautiful skin tone – almost glowing and translucent, like some porcelain, alabaster angel. _God, could he get any more lesbionic? _he thought at the moment, he was too happy to really care as his hand began an exploration of Justin's shoulders and he heard the other man sigh again in contentment. He smiled at the sound, knowing that at the moment Justin was in heaven; in his arms he felt like a pliant piece of soft, adorable putty. Truth be told, _he _was in heaven, too as they lay there, Justin nestled in between his legs.

It was so nice to finally have some private time, just the two of them. Between the wedding preparations and all the drama regarding his father, the past few months had rushed together like a whirlwind. He suspected that once the two of them got back to the States, it would be just the beginning of an even more hectic period, because no matter how much he might want to stay the fuck out of his father's political ambitions, something told him that was going to be wishful thinking.

He idly continued washing Justin's body, now concentrating on his upper back. The oversized Jacuzzi tub that had come with their obscenely expensive hotel suite had quickly become a favorite of both men; it was perfect for luxuriating in the jets of hot water as they either used it for what it was actually intended for – bathing or soaking to ease muscle stress – or more to his liking, using it to fuck his husband's ass senseless several times throughout the day and night. Making love in the Jacuzzi with the buoyancy of the water and the pulsating streams of the jets had taken their worship of each other's bodies to a whole new, exquisite level. As Justin leaned back against his chest in pure pleasure and enjoyment, Brian made a mental note to make sure he remodeled their master bathroom at Britin to include one of these when they got back so they could continue this tradition; it would be worth whatever the cost to recreate the combination of intense lovemaking and just overall relaxation they had been indulging in while they had taken advantage of using it.

"Don't fall asleep on me, Mr. Taylor-Kinney," Brian warned the blond quietly as he heard Justin's breathing evening out as if he were about to fall into slumber; all this caressing of Justin's soft skin was beginning to revive a very important part of his own anatomy. He couldn't help reaching down to curve a hand around one of the smooth, slippery cheeks under the hot water as he advised, "I've still got plans for that perky little ass of yours before bedtime." He chuckled as he heard Justin groan softly; this would be the fourth time today, but hey, it was his honeymoon. What did his husband expect?

"Can we let my 'perky little ass' rest a bit until after dinner?" Justin asked hopefully in a slightly drowsy tone of voice. It wasn't that he was complaining exactly; he could never get enough of this particular treatment. Having Brian to himself, and without the added distraction of Kinnetik, was the best gift he could ever have. But even as a young man with an almost unlimited libido, even HE had his physical limits.

Brian chuckled as he leaned in to whisper in Justin's ear. "I don't know, Sunshine…if you keep wiggling that ass all around my cock I won't be responsible for where it winds up," he warned, placing both of his hands on his husband's shoulders and softly nipping the fleshy part of Justin's lower earlobe.

Justin shivered slightly at the sensation, silently cursing Brian because the brunet knew that particular action always made him extremely wanton and horny. "Well, I'll try to _control_ it, then, at least until we get out of the tub," he said a little breathlessly. "Are you done washing my back?"

"Yeah. You're nice and squeaky-clean now – just in time for me to fuck you again."

Justin shook his head; he gave up. "I'm flattered," he quipped, as he reached over to grab the side of the tub to stand up. He yelped as Brian couldn't resist smacking his cheek that was practically begging to be eaten and presently staring back at him tantalizingly in the face. "What'd you do that for?" the blond said, turning around to glare at Brian as he glanced down where his ass was still red and tingling from the slap.

"Just testing the elasticity," Brian told him solemnly. "See? It bounces back really fast," he teased, curling his lips under in amusement at Justin's look of annoyance. "You'll be back to your old fuckable self in no time – just as soon as room service brings up your latest feast. At the rate _our_ bill's going to be by the time we leave, we could feed all the poor children in Bangladesh."

"Ha, ha," Justin quipped; he purposely turned to face Brian this time as he stepped out of the tub, not trusting that the man wouldn't test the 'elasticity' in the other cheek. Brian grinned at him as he managed to exit the tub completely, grabbing a plush, thick gold-colored towel that was hanging on a nearby rack. "Well?" he asked, wrapping the towel around his waist and placing his hands on his hips expectantly. "Either get you and your never-ending fucking cock out of the tub, or I'll go order dinner myself. Then we can feed the entire population of Bangladesh _and_ North Korea."

Brian laughed. "Help me up," he asked, holding his hand out to his partner. Justin hesitated for a moment – Brian could be a deceiving little fucker – but he nonetheless reached down to help pull him up. He gazed appreciatively at Brian's tanned, toned, glorious body, unable to prevent the thought of _mine… all mine_ coursing through his mind as Brian used his hand to help step out of the tub and stand next to him. He didn't make any attempt to dry off, merely remaining rooted to his spot as Justin continued to ogle him overtly.

"Sure you don't want to just skip dinner and head straight for…..?"

"No," Justin promptly told him, holding his hands up in a defensive posture. "You keep your _dessert_ away from me, Mr. Kinney; I need plenty of regular food to get my strength back." He smiled at Brian's look of disappointment as he dropped his towel and turned to display one of his best features for his husband as he walked a few feet over to the bathroom door, making a point to bend over s-l-o-w-l-y to retrieve his jeans lying on the floor. "Coming?" he asked innocently with a smirk as he looked back at Brian and winked.

"Apparently not," Brian muttered as he began to dry himself off with another nearby towel and stare after the prize quickly slipping out of his grasp, at least for the time being. Justin's laughter echoed across the marble tile floor as he grudgingly donned his own pair of comfortable, worn jeans and headed out of the bathroom a few minutes later in search of his husband, determined to get him fed quickly so he could feed his _own_ appetite again.

* * *

_The Next Morning_

"I hope you gentlemen enjoyed your stay here," the front desk manager was saying as Brian handed him his credit card for payment of their bill. "I hope you'll have an opportunity to return again someday," he added with a smile. The two guests had certainly made themselves scarce during their stay; the man couldn't recall ever seeing them out of their room except to walk through the lobby to retrieve their rental car for day trips. He supposed he wasn't too surprised, though; after all, he had heard from one of his employees that they were on their honeymoon, and from the intense, passionate looks being exchanged between them, it was obvious they had had more than just sightseeing on their minds, at least the _typical _sights that most tourists wanted to see.

"Thanks," Brian told the man politely as he was handed his credit card back and signed the slip lying on the countertop.

"We had a wonderful time," Justin gushed softly, smiling radiantly over at Brian, his eyes sparkling, "and we LOVED the Jacuzzi." Brian merely grinned back tenderly at him before he took Justin's hand and they followed the baggage handler out to their convertible to begin the next phase of their trip, uncaring of anyone else who either wouldn't approve of or understand their particular union.

"So where to next?" Justin asked curiously as they settled into their rental car and Brian started the motor. He was dying to know what Brian had in mind for their next part of the honeymoon, but he had a feeling by the indecipherable look on his husband's face that he wasn't going to divulge his plans. He sighed in frustration. "Brian…why all this fucking secrecy? It's not like I'm not going to know once we get there," he pointed out sensibly.

"I know, Sunshine," Brian said, smiling to himself over Justin's comment. "So like you said, you'll know when we get there." He turned to observe the annoyed look on Justin's face and the downward pout on his lips. "Just humor me, okay?" he asked softly. "I like seeing the look on your face when you see things for the first time."

Justin looked over at him in surprise and pleasure as happiness flooded his body. "You do?"

Brian's smile widened as he began to steer the car away from the parking lot and turned left toward their destination. "Yeah," he said, glancing over at his husband. "I do." He reached over to take Justin's hand in his and squeeze it. "But trust me, Sunshine….you're going to love it." _And because you'll love it, I WILL, too_, he thought silently as Justin curled his hand around his and his heart warmed at the gesture. How could he have ever envisioned not having Justin at his side? Before he had met him, he would have never thought he would be a married man, in love with such a young, passionate, fiery blond. But God, how he loved him so now and could never imagine his life without him.

Justin was smiling even more broadly now like a lovesick fool, but he didn't care. He loved it when Brian verbalized his emotions to him. His husband had gotten much better at doing that over the years – he no longer looked like he was cringing whenever he uttered those all-important three little words – but it still made his own heart skip a beat in joy whenever he said some occasional and, yes, _romantic_, words out loud. Brian had changed over the years when it came to expressing his feelings from time to time, but _he_ hadn't; not when it came to that. The sentimental soul in him still adored those moments. "Okay," he whispered back congenially, still smiling as he squeezed Brian's hand this time in response and Brian nodded in acknowledgment.

"By the way," Brian said as he steered them onto the N18 Highway. "You'll find out in about thirty minutes."

Justin's eyes lit up in excitement. "Thirty minutes? We'll be there that soon?" His heart raced with anticipation.

Brian grinned as he glanced over at the animated look on his husband's beautiful face and nodded. "Think you can hold out that long, Sunshine?"

Justin beamed his trademark smile that always captivated Brian as he said, "I'll try."

Brian watched in amusement as his husband reached inside their glove box and pulled out his trusty tour book, no doubt trying to determine their secret destination. "Hey, you're cheating," he chided him softly as Justin glanced over at him and shrugged.

He shook his head in resignation, but he wasn't nervous that Justin would figure it out – at least he hoped he didn't; he really wanted to keep it as a grand surprise. "Go ahead – you might be able to narrow it down, but there're a lot of accommodations between here and there." He turned his attention back to the road, knowing that particular task would keep Justin busy for a while as he played detective.

"Fuck," Justin huffed out after a few minutes. "And I thought there were a lot of places to stay in Pittsburgh. They've even got lighthouses you can stay in." He closed the book in frustration. "We aren't going stay in…."

"Don't even utter it from those talented little lips, Sunshine," Brian retorted. "I don't fuck in lighthouses. And don't even say it," he added, as Justin opened his mouth to no doubt make a nasty comment; Justin made a zipping motion across his lips in response, but Brian knew that would last maybe ten seconds. As it turned out, it was more like five…

Justin turned his head at a sudden movement to his left and cried out, "Brian, stop!"

Brian rolled his eyes, getting accustomed now to Justin's bobbing-head antics when it came to parts of Ireland that held such an endless fascination for him. "Look!" he heard as he pulled the car over to the shoulder and slowed down to turn and glance over at Justin's side of the car. About twenty feet away was what appeared to be some sort of scruffy-looking goat, staring back at him with beady-little eyes. If the hair had been a lot shorter and a little tidier, it might have reminded him of his high-school biology teacher that he had learned so many useful experiments from such as using glue on toilet seats; it had certainly come in handy at the trial for that fucker, Hobbs. "Oh, my God," he said in a droll voice. "You had me pull over for _that_? Justin…."

"That's a wild goat!" Justin exclaimed excitedly, pulling his camera out of his jacket pocket and hurriedly turning it on. The goat stood there and stared at him as he chewed on some grass, extremely nonchalant about the whole thing. Apparently this wasn't the first time he had been close up and person with some gullible tourist. An Irishman was probably lurking nearby, watching in glee as some tourist made yet another picture of a plain old, ugly, hairy goat.

Brian rolled his eyes as Justin snapped the picture and turned to smile at him in delight. He would never understand the fascination his husband held for such mundane things, but it still made his heart do flip-flops anyway when he smiled at him like that. "Can we go now, Picasso?" he asked. "I'm sure one of his cousins will be more than glad to pose for you somewhere else." He was beginning to think he had understated things when he had told Justin that Ireland had a "lot of sheep." Perhaps he should have amended that to say "more sheep than humans," because sheep, goats, whatever, there had to be more of them than people here from what he had encountered so far.

Justin looked over at him _sheepishly_ (appropriate enough, Brian thought) as he nodded. Shaking his head as he realized he was unable to stay perturbed for long with this man, he rolled his eyes before slowing pulling back out into traffic. "I guess I should have prefaced that statement earlier by saying it was a 30-minute drive to our destination, provided we didn't have to stop for sheep crossings and candid photo ops," he said dryly, curling his lips under. As they slowly continued up the highway, however, and the elevation gradually rose with each kilometer, he had to admit as he looked around – it _was_ beautiful. The rolling green hills, the partly-cloudy skies that made the sun's rays peek out on occasion from behind great wisps of white, and the gently crashing sea below them made for a very picturesque vista.

He had initially thought of whisking Justin away on some secluded, tropical island; after all, thoughts of lying on a sun-kissed, sandy beach certainly had its appeal for him. And he had always wanted to rent one of those tiki-type huts that stretched out literally over the water; he would have really enjoyed lying in bed at night with Justin in his arms, listening to the ocean lapping right outside their home away from home and feeling the soft breeze caressing and cooling their heated skin after a boisterous round of lovemaking. Hell, even now it made him hard just thinking about it.

But after Justin had went to so much trouble to find his real family, thoughts of returning to the land of his ancestors' birth began to emerge. Somehow, this land where the O'Connor family had first been born held a certain poignancy and fascination for him. He thought it only fitting, then, that he bring the man who was his _new_ family here as well. The ocean wasn't going anywhere – perhaps when he and Justin celebrated their ten-year anniversary, they would explore that intriguing opportunity. But for now – as he looked over at Justin's look of happiness on his face and watched the wind rippling his hair, he was more than content to put up with sheep, goats, and any other native objects that held a fascination for his husband as long as it made him happy.

Brian smiled to himself as he realized they were nearing the cutoff to their destination; if he thought Justin had been excited up until now, he could only imagine his expression when he realized where they would be staying for the remainder of their time in Ireland.

Right on cue, he heard Justin say rather impatiently, "Brian….it's been over thirty minutes now – why don't you use the GPS for the rest of the way? Maybe we're lost," he added.

"Nice try, Justin," Brian said with a chuckle. "We're almost there – have some patience. And I'm not falling for that _use the GPS_ bullshit; if you think I'm telling you where we're going, you're not as smart as I thought you were." He grinned as he heard a soft harrumph in reply before he noticed the cutoff approaching. He tried to be nonchalant when he veered the car toward the exit on the left, but he should have known the oval-shaped sign with their destination's name on it would get a certain someone's attention.

Justin's eyes lit up. "Castle? Did that say castle?" he asked almost in a squeak as he quickly turned around in his seat, hoping to catch one more glimpse of what the sign said, but he wasn't fast enough. He quickly twisted back around like some blond turtle poking out of his shell to peer over at Brian urgently.

Brian had to laugh at his husband's over-the-top enthusiasm as he finally conceded, "Yeah, Princess, it said castle. Looks like you're finally going to get your wish to be a ruler for a few days." _You're already ruler of my heart, you little fucker,_ he thought silently as Justin literally bounced up and down in his seat in barely-controlled anticipation.

"Shit! I can't wait to see it! Is it a big castle? Oh, I guess any castle would have to be big, right? But the book says there're over 345 castles here! Are we actually going to stay in one? Or are we just visiting one and then going to a hotel? Is it still intact or just in ruins?"

"If you don't shut the fuck up, I'm going to leave you there…..in the _dungeon_!" Brian groused, shaking his head. What in the hell was he thinking? That tiki hut was sounding better by the second. He wondered briefly if they still had torture racks operating where they were going, because he felt like he was going through torture right now and he wouldn't mind returning the favor..….. He sighed.

"Try to control yourself for just a few more minutes, okay?" he requested. "Then you'll know for sure." He was relieved to see Justin huff heavily in reluctant acceptance, his head turned toward the side window as he watched the land give way to a more wooded setting, interwoven with meadows full of blooming heather; he could smell the aromatic scent through the open roof of the convertible as he finally saw another sign verifying their destination located at the actual driveway entrance: Lexford Castle, built in the 13th century and nestled among 350 acres of woods and grassy meadows, and reputed to be the most luxurious castle accommodation in the entire country. As they began to drive down the long, paved roadway, their wooded view finally gave way to a clearing at a fork in the road and both men gasped at the sight greeting them: ahead of them was a rectangular-shaped stone fortress with several turrets that appeared to leap out of the pages of a Robin Hood novel complete with ivy-covered walls, a stone bridge over a moat of water encircling the structure; two men dressed in period costumes were riding on horseback near the entrance. In the center of the circular-shaped driveway in a grassy knoll sat a large fountain streaming an impressive spray of water in an elegantly-curving path. The entire view was both historic and breathtaking in its scope.

Brian slowed the car down as his mouth hung open in amazement; he looked over at Justin and noticed his expression mirrored his own.

"Brian," Justin whispered almost in awe. "This….this is so incredible. I can't wait to see the inside." His previous excitement was still there, Brian noticed, but it had been replaced more by a different sort of emotion. He could tell Justin was almost overwhelmed by the opulent, classic beauty of the castle, which sat by the edge of a crystal-clear, expansive blue lake, ringed by the most intricate landscaping neither man had ever seen; blooming plants of every imaginable color and variety were blooming in a sea of color on either side of the structure. As Brian gazed over at the look on Justin's face, he knew he had made the right choice for their honeymoon because the blond was absolutely enthralled.

He slowed the car and came to a stop in front of the massive double stone doors of the entrance; an employee wearing some sort of elaborate red and black cloak with crisp white gloves walked over to open Brian's door and then Justin's to welcome both visitors to the castle. "Mr. Kinney? Mr. Taylor Kinney?" he said politely.

"I'm Mr. Kinney," Brian told him, impressed the man had been expecting them and acknowledged them by name. "And this is my husband," he said without a hint of awkwardness; at that moment, he was so proud of Justin he didn't give a fuck what this man or anyone else thought. To his satisfaction, the employee merely nodded in acknowledgement and took the announcement in stride.

"Welcome to Lexford Castle, Gentlemen," the salt-and-pepper haired man with a neatly-groomed goatee said with a warm smile. "If you'll come with me, our valet will take care of your car while I signal for your keycard."

Brian grinned over at Justin who was frowning in confusion. _Signal?_ He could clearly see the puzzled thought wheels turning over in his husband's head as the man began to walk, not toward the entrance, but over toward the fountain located in the middle lawn of the grounds. "Gentlemen?" he said firmly, extending his hand outward away from the entrance.

"Come on, Sunshine," Brian said out of earshot of the other man. "It's okay." He knew what was about to happen, but Justin didn't. Of course, that made it that much more evilly enjoyable because Justin was clearly confused as hell. This was not the normal course of events when one arrived at their accommodations, but then again, this was not your typical bed and breakfast, either.

He took Justin's hand to gently prod him to follow the doorman as the three of them walked over next to the fountain. He noticed another man standing there as if he was waiting for them. "Mark," the doorman said as they walked up to the other man who was wearing some sort of flowing shirt and clingy dark black jersey pants and had his long, near-ebony colored hair pulled back into some sort of ponytail behind him. "This is Brian Kinney and Justin Taylor-Kinney, our guests," he was told.

The other man smiled and nodded. "Ah…I've been waiting for you; welcome to the Lexford." Justin looked at him as if he were crazy as he began to unhook some sort of leather sheath from around his arm. "You will need to put this on," he instructed Justin as he walked closer to him. "Hold your arm out toward me and I'll help you."

Justin looked over at Brian with a puzzled frown on his face and shook his head. "What in the…..?" he asked. He couldn't imagine what this had to do with getting their room key.

Brian merely grinned brightly and shrugged his shoulders, unwilling to provide any clues for him. "You'll just have to wait and see. Just think of it as another sex toy," he whispered as Justin's cheeks blushed with pink. "Do as he says– I don't think he's planning on doing you any harm. Not so sure about the messenger with our keycard, though." He was amused by Justin's look of uncertainty, because he knew his husband had no fucking idea what he was talking about.

After the dark-haired man had finished lacing up the leather sleeve, he nodded. "Now stand back a few feet, away from us and hold your arm out in front of you."

Justin smiled a little nervously but did as he was told; he noticed Brian seemed to be enjoying his discomfiture immensely as he curled his lips under and grinned. He also realized Brian had stepped back, leaving him isolated from everyone else. Whatever was about to happen, apparently he was going to be on his own.

He watched as the ponytailed man reached into his pants pocket and brought out a long, silver whistle. Bringing it up to his lips, he gave two, distinctly-different toots on it and, holding it in his hand, he gazed upward, apparently waiting for something.

Justin mimicked his action as he looked up, wondering what in the fuck was about to happen. His pulse was racing with anticipation as he scanned the sky along with all the other men until, after a few seconds, he saw a large-winged bird slowly gliding high up in the air. He watched as the bird slowly got closer and closer, inching every so gradually lower until he was circling near their location.

Justin's eyes widened as he realized the bird was making a beeline for his spot and he finally realized what type of bird it was: a falcon.

"Stay absolutely still," the dark-haired man said sternly. "And keep your arm out; don't make any sudden moves or you'll confuse him."

"Don't worry," Justin managed to whisper. "I'm not moving a muscle." He heard Brian chuckle as he stood still as a statue, watching the majestic bird slowly flying closer and closer until the bird looked impossibly huge and abruptly flew straight toward him. His heart leapt into his throat as he wondered if the bird would suddenly decide the exposed flesh of his neck looked appetizing until finally, he felt a rush of air and the falcon stopped on a dime to perch on his outstretched arm. He was a lot heavier than Justin would have ever thought as he sat there, his head making jerky movements as he turned it from side to side, the beady eyes blinking periodically as if in slow motion. His talons wrapped themselves around Justin's arm in a tight grip as the blond stared at him in wide-eyed fascination and a great deal of respect for what the raptor could do to him if he so desired had he not been wearing the protective sleeve.

"It's okay," the trainer said as if reading his mind. "Haven't lost a guest yet," he kidded softly, chuckling at Justin's look of concern as he reached over to untie the thin, leather band from around the bird's neck and retrieved what looked like their keycard. "Hold still for just a couple more seconds," he told Justin softly. He brought the whistle back up to his lips and gave it another blow, varying it this time to elicit a series of three toots instead of two, and with a whoosh of flapping wings the falcon promptly flew back up and disappeared quickly out of sight, no doubt heading back to its roost.

"Your keycard, Gentlemen," the falconer said, bowing slightly as he handed it to Justin with a flourish. "I hope you will enjoy your stay here."

Justin stood there, his mouth hanging open in amazement. Once his initial shock had subsided, his face broke out into an astounded smile as he looked over at Brian in delight. Brian walked over to join Justin, who was still standing in the same spot and trying to put into words what had just happened. "That was amazing," he finally managed to utter. He looked down at the plastic keycard in his hand and murmured," I'll never look at these the same way again."

Brian reached over to slide his hand around Justin's waist to get his attention. "Ready to go see the rest of it now?" he whispered as Justin smiled over at him tenderly and nodded.

"Thank you," Justin told the falconer warmly as the other man nodded and again welcomed them to the castle. "That was quite a welcome."

"Gentlemen – if you'll come with me, please?" the doorman asked as he led them back over to the front doors and held it open for them to enter.

The interior of the castle was even more impressive than the outside; rich, dark wood walls and oversized pieces of matching furniture greeted them, masculine and commanding in style. Expensive brocade fabric hangings and huge crystal chandeliers left no question that they were indeed in the lap of luxury. It was like stepping back into time but with all the modern amenities tastefully added as they walked up to a large, curved wooden lobby desk to register.

"This is Mr. Kinney and Mr. Taylor-Kinney," the doorman announced to the lobby employee. "Gentlemen, Mr. O'Malley will take good care of you. I hope you thoroughly enjoy your stay." The two men nodded with a smile at the other man as he softly strode away to resume his post at the front doors.

The uniformed man behind the desk, wearing the same color theme as the doorman but dressed in a smartly-appointed blazer instead, smiled at them. "Welcome to the Lexford, Gentlemen," he intoned. "I see you have the Presidential Suite for your stay. Is this your first time here?"

Brian nodded. "Yes, it is," he advised him.

The man nodded in response. "Well, you are in for quite an amazing experience, then," he told them as Brian reached in his wallet and handed the man his credit card to register. "The Lexford makes sure that all guests are treated like kings." A few minutes later, the employee punched a small desk bell and a man seemingly out of nowhere, wearing the same uniform as the doorman, approached them.

"Henry here will show you to your suite. We will be serving dinner at 5:00 in the Falconry's Room right down the hall to your right; he will point it out to you on the way to your suite. Or you may order Room Service if you wish. Please let us know if you need anything at all during your stay."

The bellman took both of their bags from in front of the lobby's counter and advised, "If you would please follow me?" He began to walk down a long, wide corridor as Brian and Justin followed closely behind. As they passed parts of the castle, however, both men couldn't help admiring the building's interior. They passed what seemed to be a large, book-lined library with shelves from floor to ceiling and a wood-burning fireplace with lion's heads intricately carved into the mantle. Another room opened up into what appeared to be some sort of study or parlor, with antique, curved chairs with velour seats and backs and a matching Victorian-style couch.

"Here is the Falconry Room, Gentlemen, where dinner will be served beginning at 5:00," Henry advised them. He stopped next to a room near an elevator that had been installed for convenience's sake. He waited to press the 'up' button, though, because he was used to the reaction guests had to the dining room. Sure enough, he smiled in amusement as the two men stopped to gape at the impressively-furnished room. Opulent didn't begin to describe it. The high-arched room was furnished in tones of silver and gold with the largest chandelier Justin and Brian had ever seen hanging in the center; round tables ringed a marble-tiled center circle with what appeared to the castle's crest etched in it.

The bell signaling the arrival of the elevator car finally attracted their attention as the bellman softly advised, "Gentlemen?" and held the door open for them. Brian took Justin's hand and together they walked the short distance over to the elevator to enter.

The car took them up to the second floor of the castle and opened up into the same type stone walls as the outside, massive in size and thickness; on either side of the walls were richly-woven brocade hangings and original oils of what must have been occupants of the castle at some time; they were wearing the high-necked, lacy and flowing garbs of the Renaissance period, with heavy jewels decorating the pale skins of the women stiffly sitting for their portraits. The paintings were occasionally surrounded by full-size pieces of armor, standing there as if still on guard to protect the royal residents.

Finally, Henry stopped at the last door at the end of the hallway and waited for Justin to stick the card into a slot to push the door open.

As they walked in, yet another wondrous sight greeted both men. This didn't have the sleek, contemporary look of the Q Hotel suite, but it was still stunning nonetheless. A king-sized canopy bed sat against one wall of the suite, ringed by several authentic antique pieces of dark-wood furniture. The bed was stacked high with oversized, down pillows and a silver, oval platter of champagne and two crystal wine flutes sat perched on the narrow, wooden sitting bench at the end of the bed. The room was complete with another wood-burning fireplace and a separate sitting area with a long, curved couch and two matching chairs. The ceilings were almost impossibly high with windows bathing the expanse in bright sunlight.

"Your bathroom and the spa room are in there," he told the two men, pointing beyond the main bedroom. "When you want your massage, just pick up the phone and let the front desk know; they'll have a masseuse up here shortly. May I get you gentlemen anything else for now?"

Brian shook his head; what – and who – he wanted was already in the room. "No, thanks," he replied politely, itching to give his husband some private and much desired TLC.

Henry nodded as Brian reached in his pocket and brought out his wallet to give the man his tip. "Enjoy your stay," he repeated as he tipped his hat slightly to them and walked over to the door to leave.

As he closed the door softly behind him, Brian turned to take Justin in his arms and gaze into his soft blue eyes. He smiled. "You like it?" he asked, already knowing the answer but wanting to hear it anyway.

Justin beamed, his smile lighting up the room even more. "Are you fucking kidding me? This is almost too much to even put into words." He looked around the ancient room that contained such luxurious furnishings, truly befitting royalty. "Brian…..this is unbelievable," he breathed out in awe, unable to fully take all of the details in. "I never could have imagined anything like this." He smiled up into Brian's face. "I am so lucky," he whispered, his eyes brightening with the first glimmer of joyous tears. His heart felt like it might explode at any moment from the almost magical time he was having alone with this man who he loved more than he ever thought possible.

"No…I'm the lucky one," Brian couldn't help saying back. He turned his head to look around the expansive suite, nodding in satisfaction that it was more than suitable for what he wanted. "I told you a long time ago that Britin was 'for my prince.' This is, too," he whispered almost shyly, a little embarrassed to be caught speaking such outlandish, romantic drivel but unable to stop himself all the same. The look of stunned happiness on Justin's face was worth it, though, he decided as he leaned in for the first of what would be several long, passionate kisses that evening.

"By the way, you looked kind of hot standing there, waiting for that falcon to land. I always _did_ like you in leather," he teased as they finally broke their kiss.

Justin laughed softly. "So that's why you did that," he quipped. "That scared the shit out of me, Brian," he admitted. "But it was still the most exciting way I've ever obtained a keycard." He stared into the loving hazel eyes. "You really are amazing, you know that? I would have never thought of doing something like that."

Brian pulled Justin even closer, his hands firmly gripping the small of his back as he cradled the slim body in his arms. "That's why you're the talented artist and I'm the advertising genius," he advised, leaning in to whisper in Justin's ear. "And I'm not done yet with the surprises," he revealed mysteriously. "But I think we have about three hours before dinner. Why don't we go check out the bathroom and spa? I'm hoping for a nice Jacuzzi or a hot tub to relieve some of my _tension_." He took Justin's hand and placed it on his hard cock. "I'm feeling really stiff down here," he said, his voice velvety with desire. "Want to help relieve me of my _problem_?"

Justin's mouth twisted up in amusement. "I think I can work on that for you," he advised. "Besides, I can't wait to see the rest of the suite," he said, his eyes alit with eagerness. He took Brian by the hand and pulled him toward the back of the room.

He stopped abruptly, however, as he walked up to the open archway leading to the rest of the suite. "Holy shit," he exclaimed as Brian softly whistled next to him. And he had thought the _bedroom_ was impressive.

"Holy shit is right - this sure isn't from the days of Henry the VIII," Brian observed as he looked at the large hot tub in the center of the room and tried to take in all of the nuances, "although that would definitely fit him, along with all six of his wives – before they were beheaded, that is." It was definitely fit for a modern-era king, he decided; he found himself suddenly feeling like Justin, because it was almost impossible to do this room proper justice if you tried to describe it. A large, round, marbled hot tub dominated the middle of the room, framed by a gracefully-curved white, wooden railing, marble columns, and a stained-glass window overlooking the lake behind the castle. Off to the corner stood a large, two-person glassed-in shower. Brian decided it was every gay man's dream as his eyes lit up in anticipation. "I think I can live without a Jacuzzi on this part of our trip," he decided as he turned to pull Justin back into his arms. "It'll be a sacrifice, but I think this alternative might do all right."

Justin laughed as he watched Brian begin to quickly unbutton his shirt. "Oh, you do, huh? I'm so relieved to hear that," he whispered, giving Brian that same look he had thrown at him a long time ago in that New York hotel room. Just that mischievous, sexy gaze into his eyes had made him horny then, and it was still doing its job now. "And I'll be glad to help relieve you of that big, bad, boner, too," Justin huskily advised as he began to unbutton the top of Brian's jeans and pull them and his briefs down the long legs while the brunet promptly stepped out of them, toeing off his shoes. He held one foot up and then the other for Justin to yank his socks off before the blond reached over to expertly grasp the silky but steel-hard cock and rub his thumb over the glistening slit. Brian groaned at the familiar, talented touch as he reached over to impatiently start removing Justin's clothes as well. He was slightly surprised to realize that for once, his own clothes were gone before Justin's; normally, he made short shrift of his husband's attire but not tonight. No matter, though – he was going to correct this little oversight immediately as he quickly took Justin's shirt and removed it before he began to work on his husband's pants. "Damn it," he growled impatiently as he found himself having problems unfastening the lone button on top. Justin laughed softly at the frustration in his voice as he continued to relentlessly stroke Brian's shaft, causing the brunet's body to flush with anticipation. He knew if he didn't stop Justin from what he was doing soon, he would come like some high school kid during his first fuck. "Justin…" he breathed out raggedly. "Slow down….." He wanted his husband so badly, but he wanted them to come together. "Not yet," he breathlessly beseeched. "Hot tub."

Justin smiled in understanding, Brian sighing as he slowed his torture down and allowed his impending climax to ebb somewhat as he finally succeeded in opening the fly on Justin's pants. He pulled the zipper down almost violently before taking hold of both sides of the waistband and roughly pulling them along with his husband's briefs down the pale, slender legs. He supported Justin as he kicked his pants and briefs out of the way and toed off his shoes; he even managed somehow to remove his socks, too, finally leaving both of them naked and eager to christen their newest honeymoon home-away-from-home.

"Fuck, you are so beautiful," Brian murmured; Justin flushed at the compliment as his husband reached over to lightly trail one long-fingered hand over his sternum, watching the pale skin fluttering at his touch. He reached over to take Justin's hand and lead him up the two, marbled steps to the edge of the hot tub. He leaned down and tested the water temperature with his free hand, happily finding it hot and ready – just like him. He slowly walked into the tub, pulling Justin rather impatiently with him. He heard the blond sigh in pleasure as he tested the water with his toes and then walked into the water.

"Justin…." he whispered, his voice dripping with want and desire. He sat down, still clasping the pale hand and pulled gently in silent entreaty. Justin gazed into his eyes for a couple of seconds before he slowly let go of Brian's hand and lowered himself into the slowly undulating water to straddle the brunet's hips, placing his hands on Brian's muscular shoulders for support. His body tingled as their cocks brushed against each other and his pulse raced at the sensation. "Fuck," Brian hissed out, every little movement creating exquisite pain/pleasure rushing through his body. "Justin….God," he almost pleaded , not caring whether he was coming across as too needy or not; his cock was throbbing so painfully that only one thing, one man, could take care of it.

Justin smiled coquettishly, pleased with the power he held over this magnificent creature of a man. The buoyancy of the water allowed him to lightly rise from his seated position, enough to lean in to kiss Brian's waiting lips hungrily, before he lined up his hole with Brian's waiting cock and slowly sank down onto the hot, wet, slippery shaft without breaking their lip lock. He gasped at the feelings coursing through his body as he pushed himself down firmly onto Brian's cock until he was completely joined body to body with him. As he began their sensual ride, the water provided him with just enough friction to make their fucking raw even more mind-blowing. The effect of feeling Brian's wet, hot, unsheathed cock pumping in and out of his hole, and the currents of water rushing through the spa made both men moan in ecstasy. Brian pushed his hips upward in an attempt to hit Justin's sweet and was rewarded with a distinct keening noise as he hit his target, over and over again. His husband's extremely vocal cries of pleasure echoing off the castle walls soon threatened to overtake him as he reached down and began to frantically pump Justin's cock in time with their thrusting. A few moments later, he felt Justin clenching his ass around his cock and, with a loud cry, his husband came as he soon joined him.

As Justin collapsed against his chest, he held onto his slender, panting beauty of a husband for several seconds more, his hands slowly sliding over the slippery, wet skin of Justin's back, while Justin's hands remained imprisoned against their bodies as Brian lovingly cradled the smaller body against his, unable just yet to separate from their union. He could feel both of their hearts beating furiously almost in the same rhythm as he closed his eyes and relished this perfect, private moment between just the two of them for several seconds, only the sound of the tub's jets and their soft pants present in the stillness of the room.

Finally, with great reluctance he pulled back just enough to gaze into the still lust-driven blue eyes; Justin's face was glistening with sweat from their effort and his hair was plastered to his forehead. He gently reached up to push the errant hair away and replace it with a kiss before his lips trailed lightly down to brush against the golden eyelashes, the perfectly-formed nose, and then finally, the swollen, warm lips. He sighed in contentment as Justin opened his mouth to encourage him to deepen the kiss, an invitation he willingly accepted.

After several minutes more, Brian finally broke their kiss to murmur, "I think this spa will be a suitable replacement for our Jacuzzi." He smiled over at Justin as he grasped the pale, slick shoulders, idly caressing the flesh there that was so warm to his touch.

"I think so, too," the blond whispered. "I think this will do just fine." He gazed into the almost chocolate-colored eyes, flecked with wisps of green and gold. "If I wasn't getting hungry, I'd even be willing to stay in here for a long time."

Brian snorted softly. "Why does that not surprise me?" he mock growled. He reached down to grasp Justin by his ass firmly. "All right, Sunshine. We'll go get something for you to eat so I can _eat_ something else later tonight."

Justin smiled. "Sounds fair." He slowly stroked his hands over Brian's puckered nipples, rubbing the nubs until he created a soft groan in reply. "We could eat in if you really don't want to go downstairs tonight," he suggested, although secretly he was dying to tour the rest of the castle and its grounds.

Fortunately, Brian seemed agreeable to getting dressed for dinner. "No," he said softly. "I don't want to be accused of turning you into a love slave and being thrown into the dungeon myself," he teased, "at least without properly feeding you. Let's get dressed and feed the beast in your little widdle tummy the proper way or I'll never hear the end of it." He pulled Justin along with him as he stood up and gave him another short kiss. "But tomorrow we'll be exploring the wonders of the royal room service while _I _explore the wonders of _you_."

* * *

_Same Evening – 7:00 p.m._

"Shit, Brian!" Justin groused as he almost waddled into the lobby of the castle. "Why did you let me eat all that?" he accused him as Brian shook his head incredulously.

"Like I could have stopped you!" he retorted. "I didn't know they had a dessert buffet here or I would have insisted you go on a diet for a month before we left!" He looked at the still-trim, slender waist. "I'll never be able to figure out where the fuck you put it all," he remarked with amazement.

"You fuck it all out of me," Justin pointed out sensibly as he leaned in and whispered in Brian's ear and grasped his husband's arm.

Brian grinned agreeably. "Yeah….I guess I do," he responded huskily, kissing Justin on the cheek as the blond beamed.

Justin noticed they weren't headed toward the elevators. "You want to check out some of the rest of the castle?" he asked hopefully, but his face fell slightly as Brian shook his head no.

"Already got plans," Brian said vaguely.

Justin rolled his eyes, remembering their conversation earlier. "Yeah, that's right. I get to eat first and then you get to eat my ass second." He sighed, wanted fervently to do some exploring, but this was Brian's honeymoon too and that was what he wanted, not that it was unpleasant, of course; he was just so eager to see more of their surroundings.

"Yeah, I do," Brian verified. "But not yet."

Justin looked at him puzzled as Brian smiled and took his hand.

"Come on….let's take a look around for a while," he said unexpectedly as Justin's eyes lit up in surprised excitement. Justin nodded eagerly as the two walked, hand in hand, toward the imposing double entrance doors. As they reached them, two men on either side of the doors hurried to open them ahead of their arrival, timing it so that just as they approached, they were able to swing the doors open to reveal what was waiting right outside.

Justin gasped. "Brian…" He turned to look at the brunet, who was smiling warmly over his stunned reaction. Was there no end to his husband's unexpected surprises today?

"Want to go for another different kind of ride first?" Brian whispered softly, holding out his free hand toward the elegant white carriage waiting for them on the other side of the driveway; a tall man wearing a black top hat and tails waited patiently at the head of the vehicle, with two white horses pawing the ground in a silent wish to move. He watched Justin's face transform in delight, his mouth hanging open in shock as he turned to look at Brian, who was biting his lower lip a little self-consciously. All this romantic mumbo-jumbo was so new to him, but for Justin, he was trying hard to make the attempt. "Ready?"he asked, pulling slightly on the smaller hand toward the waiting carriage.

Justin found a way to get his feet to finally move as he almost reverently followed Brian over to the carriage. As they approached, the man disembarked from his place at the front and walked over to stand beside the passenger side of the carriage, doffing his hat and bowing as the two men arrived. Brian nodded in return as the man placed a small, wooden step stool on the ground to facilitate climbing into the body of the quaint vehicle. He silently picked the stool up as soon as the two had climbed in and they sat down, side by side, on the leather bench seat. He reached for a lightweight tartan-style blanket always kept right behind the driver's compartment and handed it tactfully to Brian, who smiled in appreciation; the sun was slowly beginning to set, making the night air somewhat chilly. Besides, he didn't especially mind a reason to have to snuggle – yes, _snuggle_, damn it – next to Justin as the driver deftly climbed back into his part of the carriage and pulled on the reins, signaling to the horses that it was time to finally depart.

There was a slight lurch as Brian expertly grabbed Justin by the shoulders and pulled him against his body to steady him as the clip clop of hooves began to sound on the pavement and the carriage slowly pulled away from the entrance. Both men finally had a chance to take a more leisurely glance around their surroundings, finding something unique in every angle of the castle and grounds. Each flower, each tree was meticulously groomed to perfection; the tall, dense trees helped to make the castle appear surprisingly intimate for such a broad expanse of land.

As the horses picked up speed and began to pull the carriage over the stone bridge, they finally got a good look at the lake surrounding the castle; it seemed to go on forever for as far as the eye could see until it slowly meandered around a bend and disappeared from view.

Justin leaned against Brian's body for warmth as the carriage's speed created a rather stiff breeze; Brian reached down and pulled the blanket over them as he kept his hand curled around Justin's shoulder. They could see horsemen riding in one of the meadows in the distance, along with golfers enjoying an early-evening round of golf on the adjacent, manicured golf course as the carriage traveled a circuitous route around the grounds.

By the time they finally approached the castle's front doors an hour later nighttime was in full swing, floodlights illuminating the grand fountain spraying streams of water high into the air. The castle was alit, also, but from within by a bank of lights glowing like a forest of fireflies as the carriage slowed to a stop. Before they stood up to climb out of the carriage, Brian leaned his head back to stare into the rainbow of colors reflecting in his husband's pools of blue; as he gazed into the happy, sparkling eyes, he thought Justin had never looked more beautiful. In the dark of night, he reached down and met Justin's lips for another kiss for several seconds, before, nuzzling noses together, he sighed in reluctance. He was actually sorry to see their magical experience end, but he knew they would have many more moments like this before they had to return to Pittsburgh; he was going to make sure of it. Finally standing up as the blanket fell away, he reached down to pull Justin flush against him before jumping down from the carriage and extending his hand gallantly toward his husband to help him down as well.

As they walked back toward the castle's doors, Justin grasped his husband's hand and squeezed it gratefully; he knew romantic gestures were so hard for Brian – at least the outright overt ones – so the effort he had put into making sure he was happy filled him with joy. "That was wonderful," he whispered emotionally. He stopped Brian to turn him around and slide his arms around the trim, taut back. "I love you so fucking much," he said.

Brian smiled, finding his own eyes now filling inexplicably with tears. All thoughts of a replying with a typical, smart-ass type of retort died on his lips as he simply gazed tenderly into his husband's eyes and replied, "I love you too, Sunshine."


	6. What a Big Basket!

_Three Days Later – Last Full Day of Honeymoon – 8:00 a.m. _

"Mmmm…" Justin moaned out softly as he felt a warm, familiar pair of lips gently sliding over his back between his shoulder blades, peppering him with gentle kisses; the huge, king-sized canopy bed, complete with 100% feather-down pillows and 1200-count sateen sheets, was like lying in a billowy, cottony, fluffy cloud. And the arms currently wrapped around his waist from behind made him feel even better. He shivered as he felt Brian's breath on his ear as the brunet whispered, "Justin….We have to get out of bed."

Justin burrowed his head deeper in the luxurious, extra-large pillow as he blindly reached back to cup Brian's cheek tenderly while the brunet moved to rest his head on Justin's shoulder from behind. "Mmmm," was the response once again, followed by a mumbled, "Never thought I'd hear you say that on our honeymoon." As Brian chuckled slightly in response, Justin couldn't help smiling in return. He felt so warm, so content, so happy; since they had arrived here at their own little royal suite fit for a king, he and Brian had made love over and over again in every part of their quarters – in the Jacuzzi, on the thick rug in front of the fireplace (the nights lately had cooperated beautifully with unexpectedly-cool evenings so they could enjoy the flickering fire), and more times than he could count here in their canopy bed.

And they had explored so much of the magnificent grounds, both on foot as well as on horseback, and had even taken a small motorboat out onto the expansive lake, steering it eventually to a secluded cove where they had made love there, too. They had eaten gourmet meals every night, either in one of the numerous intimate dining areas set up inside the castle or in their own suite through room service, and had indulged in scented-oil massages almost every evening, lying side by side on their stomachs facing each other as the castle's masseuses gave them a gloriously-relaxing treatment. Justin sighed softly; he thought no one could have had a more wonderful honeymoon, and now it was almost over….

"What _is_ it?" Brian asked softly; Justin could feel the tingle of his husband's lips buzzing over his skin as he spoke. The blond turned in his embrace to lie on his back and peer up at him thoughtfully. Brian propped his hand up with one elbow as he softly traced patterns across Justin's slender chest with his other. "I know that sigh."

Justin shook his head slightly to indicate it wasn't anything catastrophic. He smiled wistfully. "I was just thinking about having to leave tomorrow," he told him. "In a way, I've missed everybody and I'll be glad to get back home, but I still hate to go. I've really enjoyed having you all to myself, Brian," he admitted almost with embarrassment. "I know as soon as we get back, things will return to normal and we'll both be pulled in a lot of different directions. Not only that, Fin will be gearing up for his run for Governor. Whether we like it or not, that's bound to have an effect on our personal lives, too." He reached to clasp Brian's hand and cradle it on top of his chest. "I guess that's selfish of me," he admitted softly.

Brian twisted one part of his mouth into a tender smile. "No, it's _human_," he corrected him. "I've kind of liked having you to myself, too," he confessed as Justin gazed up at him. "But I'm not the _only_ one who's constantly the center of attention back home, you know. In fact, more times than not you're called out of town for one of your art shows more than I'm called out of town to meet with clients now." He stared intently into the crystal-blue eyes. "I'm afraid real life is about to rear its ugly head again, Sunshine," he advised. "Our imaginary dream world of living like royalty is about to come to an end."

Justin nodded. "I know." He looked into his husband's intense hazel eyes; the pupils were bouncing rapidly from side to side as he returned his gaze, signifying that Brian was deep in thought about something. "Brian?"

"Yeah?" he asked softly as his thumb idly caressed Justin's hand on the pale chest.

"When we get back, you _are_ going to try to continue to get to know your father and grandparents better, aren't you?" Now that Fin and his partner, Tony, and Brian's maternal grandparents, Sean and Kathy, had entered their lives, Justin couldn't imagine them not being a part of their family now.

Brian's mouth twisted into the hint of an understanding smile; Justin always _had_ been the more sentimental one, the more family-oriented one. Of course, his husband had had his mother and sister to provide him with a good example of what a family could be, too – supportive, loving, and accepting, just the total antithesis of his _own_ family growing up. Thank God he had had Mikey and Debbie to fill in as a sort of surrogate family and give him some inkling at least of what a 'normal' family could be. Now, though, thanks to his husband, he had been presented with a unique opportunity to be a part of a _real_ family much like Jennifer and Molly were to him. He, as well as Gus, already liked Sean and Kathy – they had been so welcoming from the first moment they had met the two of them, and were very down-to-earth people. Gus had had a blast on their fishing trip and Kathy had cooked up a storm for them upon their return; both had also attended his wedding to wish both him and Justin well, and Sean had invited Gus to come over for another fishing trip soon. He was going to enjoy getting to know them better when they got back to the Pitts.

But his father? Well, in a lot of ways, his father was much too much like him – stubborn, independent, passionate about what was most important to him, and very driven. Could two men that were so much alike become friends, much less father and son in the true sense of the word? It was too late in the game now for him to ever be comfortable calling Fin "Dad."

He had to admit, though – his father had come a long way since they had first met and he had been afraid to even come out in public about his sexuality for fear it would damage his political career. Not only had he introduced Tony openly to the press now as his partner, he had also made a point of giving a toast to him and Justin at their wedding, sounding almost proud of the fact that he was his son. Brian had never had any practice having a real family, at least not until Justin and Gus had come along. Could he change his ways now and try to allow his father further into his heart and his life?

"Brian?" Justin asked softly, witnessing the thought wheels turning inside his husband's brain as he waited for an answer.

Brian focused his gaze back on the blond and smiled; he leaned down to kiss the soft, full lips reassuringly before he pulled back slightly. "Yeah, Justin. I'll try. I want to get to know them all better….even Fin," he teased as Justin grinned in relief.

He moved his hand supporting his head slightly to regain some more of the feeling in it before he asked, "But can we forget about all the drama going on at home for just one more day, though? I believe I was telling you a little while ago that you needed to get your ass out of bed."

Justin smirked. "Oh, yeah….and I was saying that was new. What are you up to now, Mr. Kinney?" he asked, glancing down the bronzed body to see the beginnings of an impressive hard-on beginning to appear. "Besides that, I mean…." He started to reach down to grasp the object in question and take care of his little problem, but Brian freed up Justin's other hand to grab the roaming one.

"No time for that, husband," he sternly chided. "Get your ass out of bed. We're going for a ride."

"That's what I was getting ready to do," Justin teased as he curled his fingers around Brian's hand.

"Not _that_ kind of ride," Brian growled softly. "We'll save that one for later…."

Justin raised his head enough to peer over at the tall windows overlooking their suite and frowned. "Brian, it's just now getting light outside. Just what kind of ride are we going on? It's probably a little too early to take the convertible out." The mornings here in Ireland could be quite chilly at times, so the thought of driving around with the car's top down didn't seem too appealing at the moment.

Brian smiled. "We're not taking the car," Brian told him mysteriously as Justin bit his lip in puzzlement. "Sorry…you'll just have to wait and see, Sunshine." He twisted his body around and began to rise from the bed as he pulled on Justin's hand to tug him over toward the side of the bed with him. "Now UP!" he commanded as Justin groaned in protest, not wanting to leave the warm confines of their bed. "If you're a good little boy, we have just enough time for a little high-protein breakfast in the shower before we leave."

"Now that sounds more like the Brian Kinney I know," Justin quipped as he finally allowed Brian to pull him out of bed to stand beside him; he yelped as the brunet smacked him on the butt for his impudence.

"Get going or I'll smack you on the _other_ side of your ass, too," Brian warned.

"Is that a threat or a promise?" Justin asked, licking his lips and arching his eyebrows in challenge as he smiled back at him.

Brian pulled him flush against his body, skin to skin, as he whispered huskily, "Come to the bathroom and I'll _show_ you."

Thirty minutes and one shower fuck later, the two were dressed casually in jeans and long-sleeved shirts along with a pair of jackets and walking down the ornate, wooden steps heading toward the castle's lobby. "You're not going to give me even a hint?" Justin asked as Brian placed his hand lightly at the small of the blond's back to urge him over toward the front entrance.

"Nope," was the cryptic reply. "But you'll figure it out soon enough, trust me," he said mysteriously, smiling at the pout that appeared on Justin's lips. "You have your sketchpad and camera?" he asked.

Justin nodded as he patted his jacket pocket to make sure he had the camera; his ever-present, 8 x 11 ½ inch sketchpad was firmly tucked under his arm. "Yeah," he told him. "Brian…"

"Come on – we're running a little late." Brian told him as he began to steer him firmly toward the door.

Justin huffed in frustration. Late for what? Honeymoons weren't supposed to be scheduled. Up until now, they hadn't _scheduled_ anything except for their flight and room reservations and the carriage ride the other day. Well, unless you counted the falcon that came swooping down, threatening to gouge his eyes out if he moved at the wrong moment. Just what was Brian up to now? He was kind of hoping that for their last day they would take it nice and slow, perhaps have breakfast in bed, fuck, have lunch in bed, fuck, have dinner from room service and then _maybe_ vary their schedule just a bit by making love in the Jacuzzi afterward….Brian, though, apparently had other plans.

"Are we going on a motor coach tour to the Armani and Prada stores?" he grumbled as the doorman tipped his cap at them and opened the front doors. He supposed he could tolerate a designer shopping trip with Brian; fuck knows he had done enough for him during their honeymoon. Admittedly, though, it didn't quite excite him the way it no doubt would excite Brian.

"Not exactly," Brian whispered back, looking over at Justin to get his reaction at the first moment of revelation.

As they walked outside, the answer to his husband's question became quite obvious as he looked straight ahead at what was resting in the middle of the ground's central, grassy plain and his eyes widened in epiphany. "Oh, shit," Justin whispered as Brian laughed. "No fucking way."

"There's our ride, Sunshine. Now isn't that the biggest basket you're ever seen? Quite impressive, isn't it?" He snickered at the look of half-horror, half-awe on Justin's face as the blond stopped in his tracks to stare, speechless, at what Brian was referring to.

"Come along, Goldilocks," Brian teased. "We have a schedule to keep." He finally grabbed Justin's shirt sleeve when the blond threatened to remain steadfastly where he was and began to pull him over toward the towering object waiting for them, blowing back and forth majestically in the early-morning breeze: a huge, multi-colored hot air balloon with the words _Rainbow Travel_ on the side. The balloon was already fully inflated and was slowly swaying in the slight breeze; only the tethers currently attached to the lawn by large, steel stakes were apparently still keeping it on the ground.

A man who appeared to be in his early 60's and of average height was standing next to the balloon, apparently watching for them. He was quite fit, slender but muscular, dark-blond hair with hints of gray and wearing a pair of jeans and a dark-blue uniform-type, button-down shirt with the company's logo embroidered on a patch on the right side of his chest. There was a pickup truck parked nearby with the same logo emblazoned on the side while three men stood nearby, wearing the same type of attire. "Mr. Kinney?" the man asked as the two men approached.

Brian nodded. "I'm Brian Kinney," he told the man as he held out his hand to greet him. "And this man standing next to me white as a ghost is my husband, Justin Taylor-Kinney." Justin came out of his comatose state long enough to smack Brian on the arm in response as the other man laughed softly and reached out to shake Justin's hand, also.

The man nodded. "I'm Ryan Campbell, we spoke on the phone," he said to Brian. "Nice to meet both of you," he replied cordially. "Congratulations on your marriage, by the way."

"Thanks," Brian responded politely, glancing over with amusement at Justin who was amazingly silent as he stared up into the inside of the balloon towering above them; normally you couldn't shut him up in most cases, but at the moment he was atypically silent.

"We're all set to go, Gentlemen," Campbell advised them efficiently. "If you'll just climb into the basket one by one, we can leave momentarily. You need to get into the larger compartment; the smaller one is for me and the equipment. I've already got it stowed inside." The man looked up into the clear sky. "Looks like you got lucky today; weather's supposed to be great for our flight."

Justin eyed the basket warily; it was approximately four and a half feet high and appeared to be made out of some type of wicker material. He could hear something like a fan whirring nearby while the balloon continued to slowly rock back and forth in the soft breeze. He turned to look at Brian apprehensively when he felt his husband grasp his sleeve to get his attention.

"You ready?" Brian asked him. "You go first and I'll give you a boost."

Justin continued to stare agape at what he and Brian were about to get into; he had never been afraid of heights, but then again, normally when he was high up in a structure, there was some sort of support underneath them, not simply air. "I guess so," he finally said as he licked his lips to moisten them, finding both them and his throat suddenly dry from nervousness. "As much as I _can _be."

Brian squatted down and linked his hands together so Justin could use them as a step. Justin took a deep breath before he placed his hands on Brian's shoulders and stared back at him warily. "You're not going to try something, are you?" he asked. "Like pitching me in there head first?"

"Get in," Brian barked.

"Just checking," Justin told him, grinning; stepping into Brian's hands, his husband gave him a boost. The blond grabbed onto the leather trim at the top of the basket and managed to twist his body around to drop inside the larger of the compartment as their pilot had instructed. A minute later, Brian had deftly done the same, finding it quite easy with his long, lean frame to heft himself inside.

"Show off," Justin retorted as he looked around the interior of the basket; the damn thing seemed awfully small – and vulnerable – to him.

Standing beside him, Brian could hear Justin breathing a little rapidly in anxiety. "We can back out still, you know," he told his husband, trying hard to keep the amusement out of his voice; he knew that would just piss Justin off in his current state. "Just say the word and we'll do something else." Secretly, though, he was hoping that Justin wouldn't do that; this balloon ride was just the beginning of several things he had planned for their last day, and Justin's willingness to go along with his plan was the key to everything else being carried out. He wanted to make the last day of their honeymoon special for him.

To his relief, Justin shook his head as he placed his ring-clad hand on top of his. "No….I want to do this," he assured him. "It scares the shit out of me," he admitted ruefully. "But I still want to go. Shit! I can't wait to see what kind of pictures we can take from up there. They'll have to be _amazing_, Brian!"

Brian nodded, relieved that Justin was warming up to the idea. "I'm sure they will be," he told him, leaning over toward his husband until their heads were touching side to side. "It'll be great, you'll see." He had to admit; he was a little apprehensive about the whole thing, too. He had always wondered what it would be like to take a hot air balloon ride, but he had never done it. Having Justin with him, though, and seeing the look of excitement on his beautiful face now, made him decide everything was going to be just fine.

Justin nodded as they broke apart upon seeing the pilot walking over to get in. This was it; they were about to be separated from terra firma. As the pilot gave the basket and balloon one more quick cursory inspection and adroitly jumped inside, Justin only prayed it was going to be a temporary separation. At least, if they literally crashed and burned, it would no doubt be over in a heartbeat and Brian would be with him. He only wished that made him feel more reassured at the moment as he watched the three men who had been standing near the truck walk over and begin to release the tethers keeping the balloon secured to the ground.

"Ready?" Campbell asked them as the last of the cables was released and the basket began to swing slightly as it was finally free of its restraints. "Here we go."

Justin jumped as the man hit some sort of switch and a loud hissing noise sounded above; Brian slid his arm around his shoulder protectively as, finally released from its imprisonment, the balloon slowly began to fill with propane and the basket began to lift off the ground.

Their pilot continued to hit the gas switch regularly to give the balloon lift and it continued to ascend higher and higher until their craft was finally above the castle's height; Brian was surprised to find that the movement wasn't jerky at all. He would have figured that at least initially, while they were trying to climb to an acceptable altitude, there would be moments of choppiness as the balloon took on air. To his relief, however, it merely continued to climb smoothly. He glanced over at Justin, whose hands were gripping the leather rim of the basket so tightly they had turned whiter than normal. He smiled sympathetically; his own stomach was doing some minor flip flops the higher they climbed. He could only imagine that Justin was feeling much the same trepidation. "You okay?" he asked in between bursts of gas being discharged as he tightened his grip on Justin's shoulder.

Justin looked over at him and let out a shaky breath. "I guess," he answered honestly with a smile. "This isn't quite like the rides at the amusement park," he commented dryly. He looked down at the castle's grounds, which were getting farther and farther away and gasped. "Brian, look! Isn't it amazing?" His eyes were sparkling with excitement now as he removed his death grip from the balloon to retrieve the digital camera in his jacket pocket. All thoughts of anxiety were quickly vanquished as he hastened to snap several aerial shots of the castle surrounded by the deep blueness of the lake and the heavily-forested grounds. The scene was something right out of Camelot or a Robin Hood movie, and the artist in Justin was mesmerized. "Beautiful," he murmured appreciatively as he gazed down at the wondrous site.

Brian smiled as he looked over at Justin's face, aglow with marvel. _Yes….you ARE beautiful_, he couldn't help thinking, happy that Justin was forgetting his fears in light of so much to see from their view above.

Finally, they had climbed high enough that their pilot could reduce the number of times he had to add propane to the balloon, allowing for an almost eerie quiet to permeate their surroundings; Brian and Justin were amazed that from their vantage point, it was so quiet they could actually hear dogs barking, sheep bleating, and even birds singing from below.

After several minutes of touring, both men had forgotten their initial misgivings and began to truly enjoy their unique perspective of their honeymoon locale.

Campbell looked over at his guests to check on them; he liked using the 'T' basket for his rides because not only was it built more sturdily than a single-compartment basket, but it also provided for a little more privacy between him and his guests; he tried to stay as unobtrusive as possible during these rides, at least as much as one could considering the circumstances. Satisfied that his guests were enjoying themselves, he smiled and turned around to allow them some time by themselves as the balloon continued to ride the air current effortlessly and they continued toward their destination. With hot air balloons, you didn't really 'steer' them, you merely rode the air currents in hopes that it landed approximately where it needed to go.

He turned around again to advise his passengers of their approximate flight time, noticing the two men were kissing each other passionately now; tactfully he turned back around to allow them some additional privacy until he heard Kinney speaking softly to the blond a few minutes later. "We should be at our destination in about an hour, gentlemen," he told them as he turned to face them.

The two men nodded. Justin asked, "How do you steer these things?"

Campbell smiled. "The simple answer is you _don't_," he told them. "You just do the best you can by adding or decreasing the propane to the balloon to help guide it where it needs to go. That's where the chase crew comes in; I keep in touch with them through my cell phone. If we go way over our landing target, don't worry. They'll come and pick us up and get us where we need to go."

"And just where are we going?" Justin asked him.

Campbell and Brian exchanged a look between them before he smiled over at him and shook his head regretfully. "Sorry, Justin – that's classified information."

Brian chuckled as Justin glared over at him. "Nice try," he offered as he leaned down to place a quick peck on his pouting lips.

"Fucker," Justin whispered as Brian pulled back and grinned at him. "This'd better be a damn good surprise, Mr. Kinney," he warned.

"It is," Brian reassured him as Campbell gave the propane switch another yank to keep them on track. "Trust me." He curled his lips under and grinned as he slid his arms around Justin's waist and they gazed out now over the rolling, green meadows set out below them like some magnificent patchwork quilt. A few seconds later, he felt Justin slide one of his arms around his waist in response and he pulled the blond tightly against his body as they stood there in companionable silence admiring the jaw-dropping scenery.


	7. Last Day of Paradise

About an hour later, the balloon slowly began to descend toward the ground and Justin had his first look at their surroundings – they were apparently going to be landing in a field dotted with woods and not too far from the ocean. He peered over the edge of the basket, intensely curious to know just what Brian had planned, but all he could see were farm fields and an occasional herd of sheep grazing nearby and nothing out of the ordinary.

Their pilot was on his cell phone, instructing the chase crew of their whereabouts. Several seconds later, he hung up to advise them his crew would be arriving soon to drive them the short distance to their location, telling Brian that everything was set up as 'he had requested' and that they were only about ten minutes away from where they needed to be.

Brian nodded, satisfied, as Justin huffed in frustration. "You're really enjoying this, aren't you?" he accused him.

Brian laughed at the look of disgust on Justin's face. "You bet your ass I am," he acknowledged smugly. He leaned over to whisper in Justin's ear. "But don't worry, Sunshine, I promise to take good care of you."

Justin huffed. "You're an evil little man, Brian Kinney."

"Wrong, Blond Boy," Brian quipped. "I'm neither evil NOR _little_." Justin rolled his eyes as Brian continued to thoroughly relish his husband's reaction. "It'll all be over soon," he soothed.

"Yeah, I wonder if they offer quickie divorces in Ireland," he retorted as their pilot laughed at the good-natured bantering between the two men.

"There they are," Campbell told them as he spotted his chase crew arriving. "I'll have one of my men take you to your destination while we secure the balloon," he told them as finally, the basket skidded to a surprisingly soft stop onto firm ground.

A few minutes later, Justin and Brian were wedged in the front seat of the pickup with one of Campbell's men; thankfully, the man chosen to drive them to their next destination was tall and lanky so the trip wasn't too uncomfortable. Besides, any time he could be up close and personal with his husband beside him, that was never a bad thing….

Justin chose to use the brief time to glance outside the windows at the scenery; the narrow, softly winding gravel drive was slowly rising in elevation as the gently-sloping hills gave way to a more forested vista of poplar, cedar, and oak trees. The sun was filtering through the canopy of trees overhead, making the air even cooler than up in the balloon, and Justin shivered slightly from the change. Silently, Brian reached over to place his arm around his shoulder and draw him closer, instinctively realizing he was a little cold and providing him with some much-welcomed body heat as Justin snuggled into his side.

After a few minutes, the road came to a gravel turnoff to the right; the truck turned at a sign that read _O'Malley Park_ and continued about a mile down the gravel to slowly come to a stop at a small parking area that accommodated perhaps four cars at most. "Here it is, Gentlemen," the man said politely. "Your contact is waiting right over there, Mr. Kinney." A man was standing about twenty-five feet next to an SUV that read _Opulent Excursions _on the side; the personalized license plate simply read "_Gr8tst_."

Brian nodded, glad that the man wasn't simply going to drop them off and let them fend for themselves. "Thanks," he told the man as he nudged Justin slightly to indicate it was time to get out. "Let's go, Picasso," he told the blond, who reached for the passenger-side handle and opened the door to disembark, eyeing the only other vehicle in the parking lot curiously. A man, wearing dark-green pants and a white-and-green striped long-sleeved shirt was standing next to it, watching them closely.

As Brian joined him and closed the truck's door, Campbell's assistant gave them a slight wave of his hand before he slowly pulled out from their drop-off point, leaving them alone once more.

Justin grasped Brian's hand as he held onto his sketchpad, now filled with several preliminary drawings of what they had seen during their hot air balloon ride – the hills and valleys of Ireland, along with the crags of stone plunging down into the ocean below, were so incredibly beautiful to him and would stay with him forever, as would this honeymoon with the man he loved so deeply.

"That was quite a ride, wasn't it?" Brian murmured to him as he gave his hand a squeeze.

Justin looked over at him and smiled, nodding. "Yes, it was. It was incredible." He peered over at the man standing next to his vehicle, obviously waiting for them. "I don't know how you could top that, Brian."

Brian grinned. "Well, I'm the master at _topping_, remember?" he teased as Justin smirked. "Let's go meet Leprechaun Boy over there and I'll show you how the pros do it," he bragged as he began to pull Justin gently over toward the man, who had dark, curly wavy hair and a pair of round, wire-rimmed glasses and appeared to be about the same age as Brian.

"Mr. Kinney?" the man inquired with a cultured Irish accent; he smiled as Brian nodded and shook his hand. "I'm Shane Hennessey from Opulent Excursions." He turned to stare at Justin appreciatively, noting the almost porcelain color of his skin that was perfectly complimented by his light-blue eyes. "You must be Justin," he said almost like a purr as his eyes raked up and down the slender, compact, but quite attractively-packaged body. He always _did_ have a thing for blonds, and this particular one was right up his alley…

"That's right," Brian said just a little sharply as he interrupted his musing , not quite happy with the man's tone of voice. "As in Justin Taylor-_Kinney_," he made a point of describing him. "As in _just_ _married_."

"Hello," Justin told the other man, flashing him a million-watt smile as he grasped his hand. The other man held onto it firmly for a few seconds longer than necessary, evoking a glare from Brian, before the other man reluctantly broke it off to stare a little warily at the other man's eyes boring into his with a distinctive look of _this is mine, don't touch…_. He licked his lips, a little uneasy at the look of warning he was receiving.

"It's a pleasure to meet you," Justin told him warmly, glancing over at Brian with a smug look on his face. Brian merely rolled his eyes, knowing that Justin was deliberately trying to push his buttons, and in fact was succeeding perfectly.

The dark-haired man cleared his throat. "Uh, yes, sir….you, too." He quickly turned his gaze back toward Brian to advise him, "Well….I have everything set up as you requested, Mr. Kinney. Your dinner will be ready at 6 p.m. this evening and we will have your return transportation ready to go at 9. You have our company's facility entirely at your disposal until then, and I can assure you of complete privacy during your stay." He walked over to the back of the SUV and swung the door open to retrieve what appeared to be a wicker basket. He took one more longing-type look at Justin before adding politely, "There's a map of the park taped to the top of the basket to show you where you need to go. I hope you gentlemen enjoy yourselves. If you need anything, just call us and we'll be glad to see that it's provided to you."

Brian grabbed Justin's hand firmly as he took possession of the basket. "That won't be necessary," he told the other man flatly as he glanced over at his husband. "I have everything I need. We'll see you this evening," he told the other man, leaving no chance of being misunderstood that their 'third wheel' was promptly being dismissed.

"Yeah….Uh, right," Hennessey told him, quickly taking the hint. "Well, you two enjoy yourselves," he said wistfully, nodding as he turned to go.

"Don't worry," Brian called after him as the man opened the car's door to enter. "WE will."

Justin smiled brightly as the man closed the door after him and slowly drove out of the park, once more leaving him and Brian to themselves. This was just getting better and better…..And to think he had thought it would be ideal to just spend time in bed with Brian all day today.

"Brian….you didn't have to be so abrupt with him," Justin chided as his husband turned to glare at him, still holding tightly onto his hand as if he was going to escape.

"Yes, I did," he said defensively. "He was looking at you like a piece of prime tenderloin."

Justin grinned in delight; this was so much fun. "I AM a piece of prime tenderloin."

Brian huffed. "Got a pretty high opinion of yourself, don't you? Well don't forget, then, that you're _my_ piece of tenderloin and mine _only_. Now let's haul your _tender little_ _ass_ over to our picnic spot and see just how _primed_ and ready you are."

Justin's eyes lit up as Brian verified that the object he was holding in his hand really _was _a picnic basket. "We really are going on a picnic?" he asked. "We'd better get going, then, before you change your mind." Despite Brian's willingness to change over the years, even agreeing from time to time to lounge on the pillow-strewn floors of the loft and Britin to eat Thai, pizza or Chinese takeout, this would be the first, full-blown, authentic picnic the two of them had ever had and he was intent on enjoying every second of it.

"Come on," Brian growled as he tugged on Justin's hand. "Let's get on with it, Mr. Taylor-Kinney. The sooner you eat, the sooner _I _can eat."

Justin chuckled. "Sounds like I'm getting the best of _both_ worlds, then." The only response he got was a sort of grunt as he willingly allowed Brian to tug him toward what appeared to be a heavily-wooded walking trail nearby. "I wonder if there're bears in Ireland," he mused aloud.

"Just kidding," he added hastily as Brian stopped and he saw a flicker of uneasiness pass across the handsome face. "According to my tour guide book, there aren't any."

The two men continued to leisurely walk toward the trailhead, hand in hand, as Brian told him, "That's where you're wrong, Sunshine. There's about to be a 'bare' very soon – two, in fact."

Justin laughed. "Oh, I stand corrected. Well, I'll be looking forward to seeing that."

Brian twisted his mouth in amusement. "You're going to be doing more than just _observing_," he told him pointedly, curling his lips under.

Justin smiled as he reached over to give Brian a kiss on the cheek. "I was hoping that would be the case." He peered down at the large, rectangular-sized picnic basket his husband was holding. "What's _in_ there? It looks like you could put a whole side of beef in that."

Brian rolled his eyes and laughed. "Why did I know you were going to ask me that?"

"Well, you rushed me out of bed without any breakfast," he pointed out. "So….."

Brian grinned, tongue in cheek. "Well, I imagine it has food in it, Sunshine. I really don't know."

"No shit," Justin growled, glowering at his impertinent husband. "I never would have guessed. Aargh! You're killing me here, Brian! Why does everything have to be a guessing game with you?"

Brian smiled as they continued to walk down the gently-twisting, wooded path, their hands swinging playfully between them. "Now admit it, Justin, you're enjoying every bit of this – I know you." His husband may be acting like he was perturbed by the entire 'unknown adventure' angle of their last day in Ireland, but he could tell; he was loving every minute of it. He could tell by the glow on his face and the sparkle in his eyes as he looked back at him with that mischievous look he always gets when he knows he's been caught dead to rights.

Sure enough, Justin smiled as he leaned into Brian's side. "Yeah….I guess I am. And I know _you _well enough to know that whatever you have planned for the rest of the day, it will be spectacular."

Brian grinned. "I AM the greatest advertising man the Pitts has ever known. Naturally I would be in my element here, too. Especially for you," he added softly. They stopped long enough to share a sweet, brief kiss before resuming their trek to parts unknown. Brian had a good idea of what he _thought_ their eventual destination would look like, but he also knew typically the website always made the places they sent you to look so much better than the real thing. He only hoped in this case what he had seen when he had ordered it was close to the genuine article.

After approximately fifteen minutes, he could begin to hear the sound of rushing water, signifying they must be getting closer to their picnic spot. The sound became louder and louder until, finally, they turned a corner and there it was: a furiously-gushing waterfall directly ahead, nestled in a patch of young trees and crashing down into a tranquil pool of water below, cradled among the large boulders that surrounded it.

As the two of them dropped hands to stand and gape at the incredible beauty, Brian noticed there were actually two waterfalls – one that originated from up top and another one below, shallower, that poured into a lower-level pool of water. The water from the highest fall was so clear-looking, you could even make out the dark cropping of rock behind it. The heavy blanket of trees that had occupied so much of their walk had given way to a lighter veil in this area, providing it with just enough sunlight filtering through to create a fairly level patch of bright green grass directly in front of the waterfall like their own personal viewing area. In what could only be called the perfect spot for a picnic, a green, white, and blue striped blanket had been placed on the ground, just waiting for them to arrive, along with a silver, iced bucket of chilled champagne, presently covered with a matching linen towel to help keep it cold. _Well, at least the fucker got something right_, Brian thought to himself, as he noticed the look of sheer delight on Justin's face and placed the picnic basket down nearby.

Justin struggled to get the right words out; by now Brian had done so many wondrous things for their honeymoon, he was having a hard time coming up with the right adjectives to describe it. He was overwhelmed by Brian's ability to top each part, but somehow he consistently did. This was no exception; he couldn't think of a more wonderful spot for their picnic. "Brian," he sputtered out as he gazed over at the stunning sight. "This…..this is incredible," he exclaimed. "It's beautiful," he murmured, momentarily forgetting all about being hungry as he stood there and stared at the rushing water about twenty five feet away from them. He could feel the light spray of mist on his face and the wind being generated by the power of the rushing water as he stared at the constantly moving, mesmerizing scene.

Brian's face broke out into a smile of satisfaction over Justin's expression; just knowing that he was happy made HIM happy as well, and he knew his husband would be using up a lot of paper in his sketchpad for the next few hours, at least in between some _other_ activities.

"I take it you approve?" Brian asked softly as he walked up to stand behind Justin and slide his hands around his husband's waist to rest his head on one shoulder. For that moment, that one moment, nothing else existed but the two of them; it was as if they were the only two people in the entire world.

Justin sighed in contentment, nodding. "Yes…I _more_ than approve." He tore his gaze away from the sun's rays reflecting a mirror of colors in the water to turn in Brian's embrace and stare into his eyes; his own blue orbs were sparkling with unshed tears of happiness and love for this very special man. "You're really something, you know that?" he whispered in a choked voice. "You amaze me more and more every day, Brian Kinney."

"I AM pretty amazing, aren't I?" he quipped, earning a laugh from his husband. He pulled Justin closer so they were touching nose to nose to whisper, "You are, too, Sunshine," before their lips met together for a kiss that started out gentle but quickly grew to a more demanding entreaty. Never breaking their lip lock, Brian pushed the jacket from Justin's shoulders and slowly began to move backward toward the picnic blanket nearby as he began to fumble with the buttons of Justin's shirt; Justin began to mimic his action as he, too, pushed off Brian's leather jacket and reached out to begin opening Brian's shirt. That part of apparel quickly shed, they continued kissing and walking toward the blanket as they began to work on each other's jeans. By the time they had reached their picnic spot, both had succeeded in loosening them enough that both took just a few seconds to toe off their shoes and step out of the rest of their clothing as Brian retrieved the small tube of lube he had in his pants pocket.

Brian gently placed his husband down on the blanket on his back and lay down beside him on his side, his head braced on his elbow as he stared at the beauty in front of him. "Justin," he whispered out almost reverently as he began to run his hand lightly over the pale body, starting at his breastbone and moving slowly, tantalizing, down his chest toward his belly and then down to his thighs to stroke each one, back and forth, back and forth, quickly driving Justin crazy with want as he deliberately dodged his quickly-hardening cock. Justin tried to turn to force Brian to touch him, but Brian merely held him down with one hand on his hip in response, causing the blond to groan in protest.

Justin could hear rushing in his ears, but at the moment, he was growing so crazy with desire he couldn't tell if it was from the waterfall nearby or from the rapid beating in his heart. "Brian," he pleaded. "Please…."

"Please what?" Brian whispered. "What do you want, Justin?" he asked as he turned enough to drape his body partially over the slender form to pin him in place and free up both his hands. He reached to take both of Justin's smaller hands in one of his own and pin them above his head as his other hand began an exploration of Justin's nipples, his shoulders, his upper arms, and his chest.

Justin could feel Brian's own cock leaking onto his stomach as his lips began a trek as well, on his neck, his cheek, his eyelids and the fleshy lobes of his ears until Justin felt like he couldn't stand it any longer.

"God…..Brian, _touch_ me, damn it! I…..I want you so much." He squirmed in exquisite torment as Brian finally released his hands from bondage to continue like some sensual octopus as he stroked, kissed, licked, and nipped all over his body with his hands and his lips; each time his husband's body moved even an inch, it set off spikes of desire in him and he knew it wouldn't take long before he couldn't hold back any more. "Brian…please…..I want you inside me," he finally managed to sputter out. "Please….fuck me."

"No," was the astonishing reply as Justin frowned; his heart exploded with pleasure, though, as Brian explained huskily, "I'm not going to fuck you this time. I'm going to _make love_ to you." And he did, with steady, easy strokes and slow, hot, smoldering kisses until finally Justin thought he would die from longing if he had to wait any longer.

Brian, seeming to know instinctively that he had tortured his lover enough, placed some lube on his fingers and spent a few moments stretching his lover to make sure Justin was open enough to avoid any unnecessary pain; as the blond locked his ankles behind the bronze back Brian pressed inward at last, both men moaning at the unbelievable, almost indescribable sensation. Even now, after so many times doing it unsheathed, Brian still thought it was the most exhilarating feeling to be captured snuggly inside Justin's body; it was so hot, so tight, so sensitive; each little twist and turn of their bodies shot off splinters of incredible ecstasy, of mind-blowing unity. This was between only them – this would be shared between the two of them alone. This would never be experienced with them and any other man for the rest of their lives and it made their lovemaking that much sweeter, that much intense. It joined them together in a way that no one else ever would know. Brian reached down to begin pumping Justin's cock in time with his thrusts and it didn't take long before they both came with a cry of mind-splintering proportions.

Brushing back the sweaty hair from Justin's forehead several minutes later as they lay on their backs, their heartbeats slowly falling to a more normal rhythm, Brian's fingers roamed softly over Justin's kiss-swollen lips. Justin sighed as Brian replaced his fingers with his lips briefly before rising on his side to face him. "You really _are _a prime piece of tenderloin," he teased as Justin giggled and stared up at him. "Meaty where you need to be," Brian continued, reaching down to give his husband's cock a quick squeeze as Justin groaned softly at the authoritative touch, " but soft where you need to be, too." He traced the lips once more with his fingers as Justin smiled beneath him and closed his eyes in bliss.

"If you throw in the word 'fat' or 'gristle' somewhere, Mr. Kinney, that will be the end of your feast today," he unexpectedly warned, opening his eyes again as Brian chuckled.

Brian made a zipping motion across his lips to indicate he had no such plan before he said, "Speaking of _feasts_, I know this is no doubt a stupid question, but now that I've checked out _your basket,_ want to check out the _other _one?"

Justin immediately raised himself up to a sitting position. "You're right – that _was_ a stupid question; I'm starved! Open it up!" he demanded.

Brian smiled as he sat up to join Justin and reached over to grab the basket handles to pull it closer to them. He snapped the top open to reveal two lightweight, white dinner plates with green clover trim held securely to the inside of the lid with crisscross elastic bands, along with two champagne flutes and utensils.

He pulled the dinnerware out from its resting place and placed them on the blanket. "Here, Sunshine, you pour us some bubbly while I get the rest of the contents out," he suggested as Justin reached over to retrieve the still-cold bottle of champagne from the ice bucket and began to pour a couple glasses of the fizzy liquid.

Brian nodded in satisfaction as he pulled out several food items: gourmet crackers of different kinds with Brie cheese, rolled-up sausages, a couple bunches of green, seedless grapes, and, of course because it involved Justin, some dessert in a Tupperware-type container that appeared to be some sort of chocolate brownies with chunks of nuts in them. He figured there were probably at least 200 grams of carbs in the whole meal, but what the hell? It was to make Justin happy, and soon enough he would be back in the Pitts and able to go back to the gym to work it off, anyway.

As Justin handed him a flute filled with champagne, he raised his glass to meet his husband's and say simply, "To us – the two best and luckiest fuckers in the world," as Justin laughed at the decidedly unromantic toast and, clinking his glass with Brian's, took a sip of the liquid.

"So what did sort of treasure trove did you find in there, Mr. Kinney?" he asked curiously as he leaned over to take a look. "Chocolate brownies!" he cried out in delight.

Brian snickered; he should have known Justin would have spotted the brownies right off. "Yeah, that's what it looks like. But didn't your mother always teach you to eat your meal first?"

Justin rolled his eyes good-naturedly as Brian plucked a grape from the bunch lying in a plastic bag and held it out to his husband's lips. Justin smiled as he opened his mouth to take in not only the grape but Brian's fingers as well; as he chewed on the fruit and swallowed, Brian promptly leaned over to get a kiss, the sweet, tart taste of the grape still on the lush lips. "Mmmm," he murmured as he pulled back to gaze into the loving blue eyes. He reached over then to cut a small piece of the Brie off with a knife and held it out, also, in front of Justin's to repeat the same procedure – one bite, one kiss.

Justin smiled as he pulled back from their second kiss. "At this rate, it's going to be a long time until we get to the brownies," he observed.

"Is that a complaint?"

Justin grinned and shook his head. "No….I think I can deal with this feeding method just fine."

Brian smiled as he picked up one of the small, tubular sausages. "Good…..then try some meat now. It'll get you in the mood for later."

Justin laughed as he did as he was told and received a third kiss in return. Brian seldom let his guard down enough to be playful, so when he did Justin savored it. He knew all too soon, their interlude from real life would disappear and they would have to return to Pittsburgh to face whatever would surface. For now, though, he was going to imprint every delightful second firmly in his mind.

Thirty minutes later, they had finally finished their picnic lunch and accompanying kiss-a-thon as Brian stood up and reached his hand down toward Justin to say, "Let's do some exploring."

Justin arched his eyebrows. "Exploring? We're not exactly dressed at the moment to go roaming around the countryside," he pointed out.

Brian grinned. "Not that kind of exploring – let's go take a closer look at the waterfall. We're wearing the perfect dress code for that."

Justin smiled as he took Brian's hand for him to pull him up to a standing position. The two men walked, hand in hand, around the edge of the pool of water toward the larger of the two waterfalls, noticing there was a level, rocky outcropping leading up to the back of the water, just perfect for closer observation.

As they walked _behind_ the waterfall, Justin squeezed Brian's hand tightly to prevent himself from falling on the wet, slick surface of the rocks as he reached out his free hand to place it directly into the stream of water, marveling out how powerful the force was. "Shit!" he cried out loudly over the din of the water so Brian could hear. "Feel that!" he said as Brian complied.

"Fuck!" Brian shouted. "That's really strong!" he exclaimed in surprise as the water almost pulled his hand down with the strength of it. They stayed there behind the falls for several seconds until Brian gently tugged on Justin's hand to lead him back out the opposite way.

Justin smiled at him in delight as they emerged unscathed and he turned to look at the falls from the other side. "That was amazing!" he said. "I had no idea how powerful that kind of waterfall was. I could barely keep my hand up."

Brian nodded. "Yeah, that was pretty unbelievable," he said. Both men by now were drenched in water from being so close to the falls; Brian's hair was plastered to his head, just like it looked in the shower, and narrow streams of water were cascading down his tanned body, wandering down his shoulder blades and over his pecs. The sun shining in from above made his skin glow with the droplets of water as Justin stared at his form appreciatively and he just had to draw him.

"Brian," he said excitedly, his hands almost physically itching with need. "Go sit over in front of the waterfall – I want to sketch you."

"Justin…."

"Please," he whispered, his blue eyes pleading with desperation. The lighting and Brian's skin kissed by the droplets of water were so incredibly perfect, he _had_ to get it down on paper. "Come on, Brian…..I need to draw you – just like you look right now. You look so hot right now. Please."

Brian smirked. "Well, since you put it _that_ way…..I don't want to be the Mona Lisa that refused to pose for Rembrandt." He grinned as he walked over closer to the waterfall and Justin hurried over to snatch up his pencils and sketchpad. He plopped down on the blanket, his legs stretched out in front of him, as he surveyed the lighting and setting. "Sit down over there – a little more to the right, Brian," he instructed. There…..sit down on the boulder with your legs bent at the knees and your legs slightly apart."

"Justin…this rock is cold as hell!"

"Come on, Brian…do it just for me, okay? Just for a little while."

Brian sighed. "Okay," he grudgingly agreed as he placed both of his long hands on his thighs and sat facing his husband. "Like this?" he asked, feeling inexplicably a little embarrassed to be posing for Justin in such a relatively public- accessible place. He knew Hennessey had promised complete privacy, though, and he had nothing to be ashamed of, so he wasn't quite sure why it felt a little odd. It was kind of exciting in a forbidden sort of way, though.

Justin studied him from an artist's point of view as he tried to forget this was his sexy, stunningly-gorgeous husband peering back at him, his legs open to expose his glorious cock winking back at him as if telling him to get on with it so he could use it for some other, more pleasurable purpose. "Put your left hand to the side of the rock and lean back just a little," he told him.

Brian huffed impatiently but obeyed, placing his hand, palm down, on the rocky surface as he reclined a little , allowing more of his cock to be exposed to the light shining down from above. The tiny drops of water still on his skin almost looked like twinkles of light. "Like this?"

Justin smiled warmly, loving the image of Brian basking on the rock in front of the roaring waterfall. "Yes, that's perfect, Brian. Don't move; you're so fucking hot," he repeated excitedly as he began to furiously start sketching the gorgeous specimen of man posing so provocatively in front of him. "Stay absolutely still." The tip of his tongue snaked out briefly as he concentrated on drawing his picture, his eyes constantly darting from his subject to the paper as the sketch slowly began to take shape.

"Okay," Justin finally told him after approximately thirty minutes. "You can move now."

"That's what _you_ think," Brian groused as he rose stiffly to his feet; between sitting bare-assed on the boulder's hard surface and not being able to move a muscle for the past half an hour, he was sore as hell and stiff as a board. "Fuck," he exclaimed as he walked over to join his husband. "I could really use one of the castle's massages right about now – and a trip to the Jacuzzi."

Justin closed his sketchpad and dropped it and the pencils down onto the blanket; he walked over behind Brian to begin kneading the tight scapular muscles. "You _are_ tight," he murmured as he continued to massage the chiseled shoulder area. "I'll just have to limber you up."

Brian smiled as he turned around. "Well, part of me is REALLY stiff. Why don't we take a dip in the water and you can relieve me of that problem, too?"

Justin laughed. "You just dried off and now you want to get wet again?"

Brian reached his arms around Justin's waist to pull him flush against his body; Justin shivered as he felt the hard-on brushing up against his belly. "Yeah," Brian whispered in a velvety voice. "Really, really _wet."_

"Well, then," Justin whispered, his body reacting in eager anticipation as Brian's hand roamed down to cup his ass cheeks. "Let's go do some diving, then."

_5:45 p.m. – O'Malley Park_

The sun was beginning to set lower in the sky as Brian and Justin began their return to the parking area; both were happy and sated from food as well as some good old-fashioned fucking as they came out into the familiar clearing, Brian toting the now-empty picnic basket beside him. When he had made their arrangements for today, Brian had been told to come back to the parking lot and simply leave the picnic basket near the trash receptacle located there; it would be retrieved by one of Hennessey's men later.

Now fully clothed, he noticed as they emerged back in the parking lot that the company's vehicle was once more parked nearby, but no one was around. Placing the picnic basket down in its assigned spot, he reached inside his jacket to retrieve the park's map and note where they needed to go next. He had one final surprise for his husband before they had to bid their idyllic time in Ireland farewell.

Noting the right direction for their next part of their adventure, he nodded his head toward the opposite side of the park. "Looks like our dinner's over that way," he told Justin as he took his hand and they meandered toward another trail that stated there was a 'view' located four-tenths of a mile ahead.

Justin noticed that the farther they ventured on this particular trail, the thinner the woods became until finally he noted a definite clearing up ahead. As they came closer to the end of the woods, he could see sandy terrain leading out to the ocean lapping against the beach. As the two of them came out into the open, his breath was stolen away by the site of the sun beginning to set behind the horizon and a table and two chairs set up on the beach. The candlelight flickering from the two, ivory-colored candles reflected off the two elegant place settings in front of each chair, and a bottle of burgundy was chilling nearby in its own portable container. A squat, glass rounded crystal vase sat in the middle, adorned with red and white roses to complete the setting and tiki lamps circling the table lent a soft glow to the scene.

"Oh, my God," Justin murmured, placing his hand over mouth in stunned reaction. It was simply breathtaking.

Brian grinned, pleased with the elegance of the setting and Justin's reaction. For once, the brochure hadn't really done the actual product justice; with the sun beginning to set behind the horizon, it was beautiful and yes, romantic. In other words, it was just what he was hoping it would be for Justin - perfect. "Ready for dinner?" he asked softly, sweeping his hand out toward the tablecloth-laden table.

Justin replied by jumping into his arms and showering his face with butterfly kisses. "I take it that's a yes?" he asked, chuckling. He led Justin, who still had his arms around his neck, over to the table. "Have a seat, Mr. Taylor-Kinney," he instructed. "See what's hiding underneath."

Justin eagerly lifted the lid to reveal steak and lobster, a baked potato, and mixed, steamed vegetables. He had no idea how they had managed to set this up, leave before they got there, and still keep the food hot, but he was delighted as he picked up his knife and fork and eagerly cut into the sirloin. "Hmmm," he commented through closed lips, smiling in heaven. "This is great, Brian."

Brian smiled as he raised his half-filled wine glass and extended it out toward Justin. "One more toast, Sunshine, before your devour the rest of your dinner," he teased.

Justin smiled as he placed his fork down and raised his own glass toward Brian expectantly.

Brian whispered, "Here's to you and me – to all the memories we've shared and all the new ones we'll be creating."

Justin's eyes misted over as he gently clinked his glass against his husband's and nodded before taking a small sip and gazing over into his eyes. "I'll drink to that, Mr. Kinney," he whispered as he took a small sip and smiled back at him tenderly.

Thirty minutes later, they had finished their delicious gourmet meal and were strolling, hand in hand and barefoot, on the soft sand of the beach; the sun was almost below the horizon now as they stopped to turn in each other's arms to watch the last fading rays of light disappearing. Soon, only the glow from the candles on their dinner table and the flickering of the tiki lamps were the only visible means of light.

Justin looked tenderly up into his husband's eyes, where flashes of light were bouncing off the irises. "Brian….I want you to know this has been the most wonderful honeymoon I could have ever hoped for," he told him with heartfelt emotion, finding his voice choking up a little over everything they had experienced. From the five-star hotel in Galway, to the castle, the carriage ride, the hot air balloon ride, and everything in between, it had been a glorious adventure. "You know, this has been the most fantastic trip I could have ever imagined," he told Brian as he feathered the dark hair with his hands. "But I would have been happy no matter where we went, as long as we were together."

Brian smiled at him, his mouth twisting up in acknowledgment. "I know you would have been….but I wanted this to be special for you, and not just because of what you did to find my real family for me." He reached up to cup Justin's face as he whispered, "I did it because of how fucking much I love you, Justin Taylor-Kinney. I'm really _am_ the luckiest fucker on the face of the earth."

Just before they came together for a deep kiss, Justin whispered, "No, Brian….we _both _are."


	8. New and Old Family Entanglements

_Allegheny International Airport – Next Day_

"Daddy! Jus'n!" It was the excited shriek that could have no doubt been heard throughout the entire airport terminal as heads turned at the sound of a child crying out in joy. Gus made a frantic bee line toward the two men walking out of the airport's security area, their overhead baggage slung across their shoulders. Justin's eyes lit up when he recognized Gus, who came rushing up to greet them like some brunet windstorm; Brian instantly dropped his bag to the floor and knelt down to scoop the little boy up into his arms to give him a bruising hug and a quick kiss on the cheek.

"Hey, Sonny Boy!" Brian cried out in delight as he pulled back from his son and gave him a tender smile. He stood up with Gus in his arms to face Justin. "I think he's grown a couple of inches since we saw him."

Justin laughed softly, knowing that probably wasn't the case, but he was so happy to see Gus he didn't care. "Hey, Buddy!" Justin replied with a big smile, leaning over to plant a quick kiss on the little boy's cheek. "We're so glad to see you! Where're your mommies?"

"They didn't come," was the unexpected reply.

Justin and Brian both frowned as they looked at each other. "They didn't come?" Brian repeated. As Gus nodded, he asked, "Then how did you get here?"

"Papaw and Mamaw," he said simply, pointing one little hand over toward the opposite wall where Brian's maternal grandparents were standing. Brian smiled at them in acknowledgment, not sure if he was more surprised to see them there or more surprised that Gus felt comfortable enough calling them by their new names.

The older couple smiled at Brian and Justin as they walked up to greet them. The two newlyweds nodded at them in return as Brian gently lowered Gus to the ground to shake Sean's hand. "Sean," he said, studying the older couple. His grandfather was dressed casually in a sage green knit golf shirt and beige khakis, while Kathy was sporting a two-piece, dusty-rose knit pants suit. As usual, even outfitted in less formal dress, both were neatly attired and groomed impeccably.

Brian turned to his grandmother with a tender smile; he had quickly become fond of the elegant, petite woman who had almost instantly adopted and accepted him as her only grandchild. "Kathy. This is a surprise. We thought Mel and Lindsey would be coming to get us."

"Hello, Sean, Kathy," Justin greeted them, also. He gave Sean a brief handshake before reaching over to give Kathy a small hug and kiss on the cheek. He had felt quite comfortable with the couple practically from the minute he had met them. They had seemed so down-to-earth and friendly, especially considering he had just appeared out of nowhere on their doorstep that day. Once he had explained why he was there, he had been so grateful that they had been immediately open to a grown-up, previously unknown grandson entering their lives as well as a great-grandson; they had told Justin that while they were devout Catholics and really didn't understand the gay lifestyle, they still weren't judgmental of either of them and had been quite welcoming to the idea of getting to know a new part of their family; in fact, they had been downright delighted to learn about both Brian and Gus after losing their only daughter several years ago to a drunk driver. For all those reasons, he would always be grateful to them. "It's good to see you again," he told them sincerely.

Justin watched, pleased, as Brian allowed Kathy to grasp his upper arms and pull in down for a kiss on his cheek; he knew that Brian could be hesitant about these types of public displays, especially with people he didn't know very well, but Brian seemed to have bonded quickly with his grandparents. It was almost as if he was making up for lost time when he was younger and never received the affection that he had no doubt been craving from his adopted family.

"You both look so good, so rested," Kathy told them, observing how relaxed and at ease they both seemed. "Did you have a good honeymoon?" Despite the two men's unorthodox relationship, she still couldn't deny how much in love they were; all you had to do was look at the expressions on their faces when they looked at each other and their eyes that almost sparkled when the other man was around to realize how deeply they felt for each other. She had been impressed with Justin from the moment she and Sean had met him; they had been impressed by his courage, his conviction, and his resolve to find Brian's true family and to protect him from further pain should they denounce his lifestyle and refuse to acknowledge him. Justin had never tried to hide any of the details from them regarding Brian's sexual orientation, and while they didn't quite understand it, they had been enormously grateful as well as thrilled to discover that a part of their deceased daughter lived on inside their grandson and great-grandson.

Justin smiled as he looked over at Brian. "We had a _wonderful_ honeymoon!" he practically gushed as Brian merely smirked at his overly-enthusiastic reaction. "It was indescribable; you wouldn't believe the places we stayed in! And all the surprises that Brian managed to spring on me. I took all kinds of photos while we were gone – I can't wait to show them to you!"

Kathy nodded with a smile. "I'd love to see them; maybe you and Brian can come over for dinner soon and you can show them to us; Gus, too, of course," she added, reaching over to ruffle her great grandson's hair briefly as Gus smiled up at her.

"Be careful what you wish for, Kathy," Brian warned her as he placed a hand on Justin's shoulder. "We might be there all night long if he does. When he says he took a lot of pictures, that is a vast understatement."

Justin glared at him in mock annoyance. "Some people have no appreciation for art."

Brian snorted. "Yes, I do," he argued, "But who said anything about _art_? All you have to do is point and shoot, Justin. And boy, did you; I mean with the camera," he quipped, laughing softly at his off-color joke.

Justin blushed in embarrassment before smacking him lightly on the stomach as Kathy and Sean looked at them in amusement; Gus, who was more than used to their bantering by now, turned his own attention to gaze at one of the nearby windows curiously as a large jumbo jet came taxiing up to one of the gates, watching in fascination as it loomed ever larger and larger. He tugged on his father's sleeve. "Daddy, can I ride one of those?" he asked eagerly, his big brown eyes large and expressive as he looked up at his father hopefully.

Brian smiled down at him tenderly. "Not today, Sonny Boy," he said softly. "Besides, you've ridden on a jet before, remember?"

Gus nodded. "But I want to go for another ride."

Brian laughed as the rest of the group smiled. "We will – someday. But not today." He added as he noticed the slight pout appear on his son's lips, "But Justin and I brought you something back from our trip, just like I promised we would."

He watched as Gus' eyes lit up in eager anticipation, disappointment over not going for a ride quickly discarded. "What is it?" he asked excitedly. "Let me see!"

"You'll have to wait until we get our luggage and I can open up my bag to get it out, Sonny Boy," he told his son. "It'll just take a little while, though." He glanced back over at his grandparents, remembering his initial question. "How did you wind up with Gus?" Frankly, while he wasn't worried about that fact he was still somewhat surprised; he didn't think Mel and Lindsey would be comfortable enough with virtual strangers to leave Gus with the two of them, even if they WERE his great grandparents.

Kathy looked a little sheepish as she admitted to him, "I hope you don't mind, but I got their phone number from them at your reception, and after you and Justin left on your trip, I called them up and asked the two of them if they would come over to our house so we could all get to know each other better. I told them we would love to see our great-grandson again, and mentioned that Sean wanted to take Gus back out on his boat for another fishing trip. I also told them you had said it would be okay."

Sean nodded as he added, "I hope you don't mind; it's just we didn't even know we _had_ other family until a few months ago, so I guess we're eager to make up for lost time. We had a wonderful time with them – Kathy entertained the two ladies with a lunch out on the back patio that day, while 'us men' went back out to do some more fishing."

Gus jumped up and down, pulling again on his father's sleeve to get his attention once more. "I caught another BIG one, too, Daddy!" Gus told him, his face aglow in pleasure. "And Papaw cooked it up and we ate it!" He sounded so proud of that fact as he practically crowed in excitement.

"Wow! That's great, Buddy!" Brian praised him as his son beamed at the statement. "You're a regular fisherman now."

As he looked at the happy expression on his son's face, and then over at the older couple who had taken such an interest in both of them, Brian was stunned; not that he minded them taking the initiative to get to know his son's mothers better. He wasn't even all that surprised that somehow they had persuaded the two women to let them bring Gus to the airport to meet them here; he had a feeling his grandparents could be quite persuasive when they wanted to be. He was more amazed that he actually had family that cared enough to want to _do_ all that; it was certainly a major departure from what he was normally used to.

He shook his head in response. "No," he said softly with an almost shy smile. "No, I don't mind at all. In fact….I think it's great." He looked over at Justin, who nodded in agreement, enormously pleased at how well Brian and his maternal grandparents were bonding. It was what he had been hoping would happen from the first moment he had seen them.

His grandparents nodded in relief; they were hoping that would be Brian's reaction but they hadn't been sure. "We're glad," Kathy told him. "Why don't we go get your luggage then? Our car's right outside in the parking lot. I imagine you're both hungry; I know how little they feed you on the plane now, and you both look way too skinny. If you want, we can stop on the way back to your house and catch some lunch."

"Yay!" Gus immediately expressed his excitement over that idea as Brian laughed.

"Well, I'm not that hungry myself, but I can see I'm outnumbered; Gus definitely is a 'yes' vote and I don't even have to _ask_ Justin if he wants to do it." He was immediately met by another smack to his arm this time as the older couple looked at them in amusement.

A few minutes later, luggage retrieved and Gus wedged in between his two 'dads,' happily playing in the backseat of his great grandparents' car with his new sheep farm play set, the group headed out of the airport and south toward Britin with a promise issued to stop at the nearest family restaurant for lunch.

* * *

_Three Hours Later – Britin_

Brian leaned into the car's open rear window. "I'll see you next week, Buddy, okay?" Gus dropped a plastic silo he was holding to scoot over toward his father and give him a hug. Brian gave a short grunt as he gave him a firm squeeze in return and a quick kiss on the cheek before releasing him and smiling back at him.

Gus held out his arms toward Justin as the blond beamed at the nonverbal request. "Bye, Gus," he said softly with a wistful smile as he, too, walked over and reached down to give the little boy a hug. Gus planted a somewhat sloppy kiss on his cheek as he pulled back to stare into his angelic face; he always loved spending time with Brian's son and was always a little nostalgic when he had to say goodbye to him. He still remembered the day several years ago when he and Daphne had been asked to babysit JR for Michael and Ben; it had turned out pretty awful when she had gotten ill later, but he could still recall Daphne asking him if he would like to have a child of his own one day as they had stared down in wonder at the beautiful human being staring up at them, so innocent and helpless. When he whispered to her that he had thought about it, she couldn't have had any idea just how much he _had_ yearned for one. When Gus was younger, especially, and when JR was still just a newborn, he would hold each one in his arms and feel this sense of completeness and awe. The way they felt, the way they looked at you with such unconditional love, even the way they had this unique baby smell, made him feel things he had never felt before. Over the years, especially as he and Brian had become closer and eventually decided to get married, those feelings had intensified, and now that they were in a financially stable relationship and committed to each other, it seemed like it might be a good time to broach Brian with the idea. But for some reason, he still held back.

Brian had definitely changed over the years and wasn't as prone to holding back his feelings for him any longer – the occasional _I love you's _he uttered aloud no longer seemed to give him a look that resembled indigestion like they did before – but he still was reluctant to bring the subject up, despite his wish to. He knew Brian was a wonderful father to Gus, despite his initial intention to just be a sperm donor for him. He also knew how Brian seemed almost transformed when he was around him; it was like he was an entirely different person. But he _also _knew that Brian balked at conventionality and tradition; it had been a huge step just to get him to agree to go through with their marriage. Taking it another tumultuous level further and asking Brian if they could bring a child into their lives? That was too much to ask of him just yet, maybe forever. For now, then, he was content to let things evolve as they were. He had Brian and Gus for his family, in addition to his mom and Molly, and Brian now had the real family he had always deserved; for him that was enough at the moment.

As the car drove away with the occupants waving back at them, Brian returned the motion until they reached the end of the drive; as it disappeared from view, he glanced over at Justin, who was noticeably quiet. His eyes were still directed toward the departing vehicle but he didn't quite seem to be focused on anything in particular. "Justin?"

Brian leaned over after a few seconds and waved his hand in front of the blond's face.

"Huh?" Justin blinked and turned to Brian with a strange look on his face. "Did you say something?"

Brian smirked. "Just checking to see if there was a brain still occupying your body; you zoned out on me there. Anything wrong?"

Justin smiled a half-smile and shook his head, replying softly, "No….nothing's wrong. Let's go on in." He stood there for a couple more seconds before turning to walk toward the front door.

Brian looked at him intently, knowing something was on his mind despite his protestations otherwise, but chose not to press it; there would be time later to find out what was bothering him. "Yeah….okay," he said, placing his hand around the slim waist and walking with Justin toward the door.

Just before Justin could open it, however, Brian grabbed his wrist. He turned to look at Brian in puzzlement. "What is it?"

"I almost forgot something."

"Forgot what?"

"The Kinney tradition," Brian said, his eyes twinkling.

Justin eyed him warily. "_What_ Kinney tradition?" That was news to him; he didn't think Brian would want to carry on ANY Kinney tradition.

"This one." Justin emitted the cute little squeak he always made when he was surprised as Brian reached down and flung him over his shoulders, fireman style. Holding firmly onto his legs, he smacked Justin's ass firmly before growling in a husky tone of voice, "Carrying the husband over the threshold for his first post-honeymoon fuck. Now open this damn door so we can get on with it."

Justin laughed as Brian turned around long enough for him to enter their combination into the locking mechanism and open the door, his melancholy thoughts of before at least temporarily dismissed from his mind in exchange for anticipating much more pleasurable matters.

* * *

_Later that Evening - Britin_

"Brian?"

After several seconds of pregnant silence, Justin looked up from his place on their black leather couch in the first-floor library; now that they were finally back home and alone, he was going through what seemed like mounds of paper; he couldn't believe how much snail mail they had received just in the relatively short time they had been gone. Brian was going through his email on the laptop at his desk at the other side of the room and apparently was so absorbed in it, he hadn't even heard him.

"We got some junk mail advertising penile implants – want me to hold onto it for you?" He rolled his eyes when he was met once more with silence.

"BRIAN." He called his husband's name even louder, now noticing him frowning in that look of his that clearly broadcast he was registering distinct disapproval of something. "What _is_ it?" he called out. He sighed when he still didn't get a response; whatever it was, Brian was definitely not happy about it.

He left the mass of now opened mail on the coffee table in front of the couch to walk over toward his husband to see what he was so engrossed in. Only when he had come to within a few feet of him did Brian finally look up to acknowledge him, the anger written all over his face now.

"What?" Justin pressed simply, walking around Brian's desk to see; Brian swung his laptop around to reveal what image he had been staring at for the past several minutes that was causing so much consternation on his handsome face – the image that had made his blood pressure shoot up dramatically. "Do you fucking believe this bullshit?"

Justin leaned down next to Brian to get a better look at what Brian was talking about; there, in living color, was a photo from their wedding reception – despite Brian's wrath over the photo, Justin still found himself smiling in tender remembrance at the image of Brian's father, Fin and his partner, Tony, holding each other in their arms as they danced together. He remembered Tony telling him later how much that night had meant to him, because it was so rare that he and Fin could spend time together in public, not worrying about looking over their shoulders constantly as they wondered who was watching their every move; in fact, he said it had been the only time they had ever danced together in public, even though they loved to do it in the privacy of their home; before, they had always been too afraid of what others would think or the unfavorable publicity it might generate to try it.

His and Brian's wedding and reception afterward had been wonderful; he knew that no matter what happened going forward, it would be one of if not THE best day of his life. As he noticed the heading over the photo, though, he realized at once why Brian was so upset: there in large type were the words _Gubernatorial Candidate Attends Gay Son's Wedding._ Underneath the photo and heading was a column written by a well-known, conservative columnist that started out with a sentence that read – _Is this the type of man you want to lead our state?_

"That son of a bitch!" Brian snarled. "What fucking right does he have to publish that?"

Justin placed his hands on Brian's rigid, tension-filled shoulders and sighed; they had been home what, five hours now? And their state of bliss and happiness had promptly been removed and replaced by reality. He squeezed the tight muscles under his grasp before saying, "As much I agree it's bullshit, Brian, he has a right to his First-Amendment opinion, as idiotic as it may be."

"Not that," Brian, told him, swiveling around in his chair to look up at Justin with his darkened eyes flashing; his pupils were rapidly moving from side to side, signifying he was very agitated. "The photo – Justin, that's from our reception! Someone WE invited to be a guest of ours wound up taking that picture! What kind of _friend_ DOES that?" He proceeded to let forth with a litany of muttered curses as Justin continued to knead his shoulders softly.

"Obviously someone who doesn't give a shit about ethical behavior and was looking to make some fast bucks out of it," Justin told him quietly from behind. He leaned down to nuzzle his cheek against Brian, feeling how hot and flushed his skin was, before he walked around to stand in front of him and look down into his storm-tossed eyes. "Brian…..we both knew this was going to happen from the moment Fin announced he was running for governor, and as soon as he came out he was an automatic target for all the right-wing homophobes. None of this should really be a big surprise, unfortunately."

Brian closed his laptop in disgust as he looked up at Justin and shook his head angrily. "That doesn't make it right, Justin." He brushed a hand through his hair in frustration as he stood up to face his husband, who placed his hands around Brian's neck and idly played with the soft auburn hair at his nape.

"This is part of the reason why I didn't want to get too closely involved with my father," Brian divulged. "His running for governor is going to put us in the spotlight, too, which means that our privacy is going to be compromised just like his has been, whether we want it to be or not." He stared down into the soft blue eyes. "Are you sure you're ready for that?" he asked. He slid his arms around Justin's upper back to pull him closer toward his own body. "I remember how fucked up you were after your bashing. What happens if the media starts hounding you wherever you go?"

Now that made more sense, Justin thought. Brian normally didn't give a shit about what other people thought about him; simply having some persistent, obnoxious media hanging around him wouldn't faze him at all. But thinking that HE would be bothered by it would. "Brian, that was a long time ago," he reminded him, even though it still evoked thoughts of unease in him. "I've been to tons of events since then that were attended by hundreds of people and even marched in the Pride Parade afterward without any problems. I'd rather not have our privacy invaded, but I can handle it. The genie's already out of the bottle – it's too late to shove it back in now."

"I'd like to shove something up this fucker's ass," Brian growled as he stared over at the smug-looking, pudgy face of the so-called journalist. He sighed. "But I guess you're right – it's too late to go hide under a rock now; in fact, I refuse to do that. That doesn't mean I'm going to go out and be some cheerleader for Fin's campaign, though."

Justin stared up at him intently before asking, "Are you sorry I found him, Brian?"

"Fin, you mean?"

Justin nodded. "Yeah….I can tell both you and Gus are fond of Sean and Kathy, but you almost seem resentful of having to deal with Fin. Are you sorry that I found out about him?" He suddenly felt that perhaps he had been presumptuous in feeling that Brian would appreciate the chance to get to know his real family; he supposed he had always thought that _anybody_ would have been better than the parents his husband had actually been stuck with. Was this just a different form of torment for him, though? Had it been fair to practically force Brian to be pushed into the glare of Fin's campaign without him having any say so in it?

Brian considered that question carefully; Justin always _did_ have a way of getting right to the crux of the matter; that must have been what was troubling him earlier. _Was_ he sorry? Did he regret being introduced to a father he didn't even know he had? Did he resent it? As he stared into the anxious-looking eyes of the man he loved and trusted more than anyone else in the world – the man he now recognized as his best friend and soul mate – he shook his head. "No," he said quietly, lightly stroking Justin's back in an attempt to reassure him. "I'm not sorry, Justin." He saw a flicker of relief cross the beautiful face as he added, "Although I'd be lying if I said I'm looking forward to all the disruption his campaign is going to cause in our personal lives." He sighed. "At least the security company should have the grounds and house wiring complete by tomorrow; no one will be able to get in here without our knowledge or permission after that." His expression softened as he gazed into Justin's eyes. "I wouldn't want anything to ever happen to Gus…..or _you_." The process had actually begun before they had left for their honeymoon, but protecting the entire grounds had wound up being quite a bit more complicated – as well as expensive – than everyone had realized. To make sure his son and his husband were always safe, however, Brian would pay any price.

Justin flushed with happiness over that heartfelt statement; of course, any time Brian issued those types of words that his soul seemed to crave, it always made him feel so special and so loved. He constantly marveled at how Brian had become more at ease about saying things like that, but he would never stop growing tired of hearing them. "You did promise to get to know your father better when we got back," he pointed out softly.

Brian smirked. "Little twat – you have the memory of an elephant."

Justin smiled before his face sobered a little. "Yeah….except for one time." It still bothered him enormously that he couldn't remember the prom; it must have been a glorious, magical evening – until Hobbs had made sure he would never remember it. But at least he and Brian had their wedding and reception to remember now – he would never forget _that_…

"Hey," Brian whispered softly as Justin lifted his eyes to look at him and smiled in reassurance. "I did promise to do that," he said, trying to divert Justin from what he knew was an unpleasant memory, "And I will." He reached over with one hand to close his laptop. "Now what do you say we go for a horseback ride on Samson and Willful before it gets too dark? Then when we get back, we can fulfill one of your items on the "Honey Do" list and you can ride ME in the stables."

Justin grinned as the two came together for a brief but passionate kiss. Taking his hand, Brian led them out of the house from the back patio toward the stalls, their impending difficulties at least temporarily forgotten.

* * *

_Next Morning – 8:30 a.m._

A half-awake Brian reached across Justin's stomach to jab the top of their clock radio to try and get the alarm to stop sounding; he didn't have to go into work until mid-morning and didn't even remember setting the alarm last night. As he flopped down onto his back, he let out a sigh of relief as silence reigned once more. A few seconds later, though, the cacophonic, obtrusive noise started up again for some reason. "Shit!" he growled. He wasn't going to try and climb over _Mount Taylor-Kinney _again, however, even though it wasn't exactly an unpleasant experience.

"Justin," Brian commanded as he gave the tousled, sleepy blond next to him a nudge; he received a slight grunt of acknowledgement in response. "Justin!" He said a little louder, pushing the blond's shoulder firmly. "Turn the alarm off." He wasn't sure if Justin was still paying attention – he could sleep through practically anything and his eyes were firmly closed – but after a couple of seconds, he saw one pale hand reach over and blindly reach out for the top of the alarm clock until he found the off button and pressed it. Justin let out a soft huff of relief as the noise stopped; he turned a little and snuggled deeper into the satin sheets framing the pillow-top, king-size bed, flinging one arm over toward Brian to land on the brunet's cock like some heat-seeking missile.

Brian smirked; even half-asleep Justin had good aim. He suddenly came up with a way to make Justin _come_ alive a little more; now that HE was awake, there was no sense in wasting a little extra time before he had to get ready for work. He was about to reach down and cup Justin's hand around his cock to get things started when the noise suddenly commenced again and it finally registered in his brain: it wasn't the alarm clock going off after all, it was their doorbell downstairs. Someone wasn't merely pressing it once and waiting politely for someone to answer it, either; they were practically laying on it permanently for several seconds before stopping and then starting up again soon afterward.

"Fuck!" Brian was royally pissed now, not only because of someone having had the audacity to visit at this early time of day, but also because he was about to be deprived of one of his greatest pleasures in life. Huffing in anger, he gently removed Justin's hand from his body and rose gingerly from the bed so he wouldn't disturb him, thinking if he opened the door and found some fucking reporter there, the person who had had the nerve to intrude upon their privacy would be the focus of a major news story tonight – _Gubernatorial Candidate's Gay Son Beats the Living Shit out of Nosy Reporter._

Hurriedly pulling on the pair of jeans he had worn last night for their horseback ride, he trudged down the steps barefoot and roughly slid the deadbolt back to fling the door open; at that instant, he realized there was perhaps one other person he dreaded seeing even more than a reporter...There, standing in front of him with a newspaper folded in her hand, was his 'former' sister, Claire.


	9. New Allies, Old Enemies

Brian brushed his hand across his face, earnestly hoping that he was imagining his 'sister' standing on his doorstep, but as soon as she opened her mouth he knew that was not the case.

"Care to explain this, Brian?" she growled, one hand on her hip as she glared up at him. The folded up newspaper was clutched tightly in her other hand as she held it out toward him.

Brian eyed her calmly. "It's black and white and read all over," he intoned helpfully. "Now do you want to tell me what the fuck you're doing here, Claire?"

"You're an embarrassment to our family, Brian!" she snapped at him all of a sudden. "How _could_ you?"

Brian shook his head, feeling a migraine coming on; _why not_? he thought – he already had a pain in the ass standing right in front of him. Why did he feel like he was replaying some scene from a horrid play over and over again in his mind? He sighed in disgust. "It's too early for damn guessing games, Claire – I repeat: what the fuck do you want with me?"

"You had to go flaunt it, didn't you?"

Brian held out his hands, palms up, in a silent gesture for her to elaborate.

"It was bad enough you had to search out your biological father, but now it's plastered all over the paper! Do you know how embarrassing this is? You're destroying Mom and Dad's reputations!"

Brian snorted in derision. "Their _reputations?_ Do you really think I give a fuck about their reputations, Claire?"

She huffed. "Obviously not. Mom tried to tell Daddy what a mistake he was making, but he wouldn't listen – and now look! This is the thanks they get for taking you in!"

"Whoa…..back up here, Claire," Brian said as a painful, startling realization hit him full force. "You don't seem too upset – or surprised – over the fact that I'm the illegitimate son of a gay politician. In fact, you don't seem surprised at _all_! You _knew…._didn't you? You knew all along that I was adopted!"

"What if I did?" she asked snootily.

He stared at her incredulous. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Claire glared at him. "Why should I have? You've been a disappointment to Mom and Dad since you were a little kid; always shooting your mouth off, always getting into trouble, never caring about the problems you caused. You gave them nothing but _grief_! And after Daddy died, you never so much as lifted a pinky finger to help me take care of Mom! And when she found out you were gay, it about broke her heart; I think that's why she wound up drinking so much – and that's why she died, Brian! She couldn't take it anymore! Why should I care, then, about _your_ feelings?

"Mommy Dearest drank herself to death starting a long time ago, well before she found out about me and Justin – I didn't force all that booze down her fucking throat! How long have you known anyway?" he asked her softly, unable to hide the pain from his voice. All this time, was he the only one who hadn't been told?

"Since I was a teenager," she told him to his astonishment. "Mom always said the only reason why she agreed to the adoption in the first place was to make Daddy happy; he always wanted a son to carry on the family name, and when she couldn't give him one, he kept hounding her until she finally agreed to it." She eyed him with contempt. "Of course, neither one of them knew what a major letdown you would be." She snorted with a laugh. "What a joke! They adopt you in hopes of the Kinney name being passed down from generation to generation and you wind up being a fucking queer!"

Brian felt like he had been punched in the gut, but he refused to allow the tears stinging his eyes all of a sudden to show as he told her sarcastically, "Yeah – looks like the joke's on all of _you_; the old man must be turning over in his grave. Of course, he knew before he went, too."

She gasped. "You _told_ him?"

"Yeah, I did," he told her matter-of-factly. "I told him his kid was a fairy. Of course, now I know that's not true, don't I? I never was his kid in the first place," he reminded her smugly, ignoring the painful lump that inexplicably appeared in his throat; he had never felt like a part of the Kinney family anyway. "Talk about poetic justice."

"You think this is funny, Brian? You think it's funny that you've besmirched the family name just so your real, _queer_ dad can get some publicity for his campaign? Don't try to deny it; this has got your name written all _over_ it!"

Brian walked a couple of steps closer to stare down at her face to face as he told her with deadly quiet, his voice dripping with sarcasm, "I'm so distraught that you're disappointed in me, Claire, but it doesn't matter to me whether you think I did or not. I'm not going to lose any sleep over it and I'm sure as fuck not worried what you think of me. You've never respected me since the day I was born; was it because I wasn't related to you? Did you resent the fact that Dear Old Daddy wanted a big, strapping son to mold into his image rather than some prissy, whiny little girl?"

"Shut up, Brian!" she snarled. "Daddy always loved me more than _you! _You never gave a damn about him and he knew that! I'm _glad_ you know now, because now I don't have to fake it anymore!"

"Fake what, Claire? Sisterly love for your little brother? Don't make me puke! You've hated my guts for a long time!"

Claire smiled. "You're right, _brother_," she retorted, ice dripping from her voice. "You were a disgrace to the family then and you're a disgrace….."

The heavy wooden door, which had been left ajar as the two talked, was suddenly flung open wider, startling both of them. A disheveled Justin appeared at the door, eyes blazing and face red as he stared daggers into the woman's eyes.

Brian smiled. "Claire, I'd like to formally introduce you to the little hubby, Justin Taylor-Kinney. Justin, you remember my dearly departed ex-sister, Claire."

Claire glared over at the blond contemptuously. "This is none of your concern….._Mr. Taylor_," she said, saying his name like it was an infectious disease. "This is between Brian and me."

"The hell is it!" Justin roared instantly as Brian's eyebrows shot up in surprise at his tone. He had seen Justin before when he was in one of his queen outs, but none quite like this; the veins were actually threatening to pop out of his neck and his face was scrunched up in fury as he yelled, "I want you off our property…..NOW! Or I will personally throw you off!"

She snorted, giving the petite, slender blond a quick study; she had to weigh more than he did. "You wouldn't dare…"

"Oh, no?" he countered, basically ignoring Brian as he stepped out onto the small, concrete front porch and stared down at her. "You're a homophobic, uncaring, narrow-minded, frigid _bitch_!" To Brian's shock, Justin actually gave her a shove as Claire stumbled backward awkwardly, narrowly able to catch her balance before she fell. "Get the fuck out of here NOW!" he bellowed; Brian had to physically grab Justin by the shoulders to keep him from shoving his 'ex-sister' again as he lunged toward her.

"You're crazy!" she yelled at Justin as she backed up in wariness. "You both fucking _deserve _each other! I hope you both rot in Hell!" She abruptly whirled around and stomped over to her car, yanking the driver's side door open and hurriedly getting in before she quickly turned the ignition and put the car in drive. A few seconds later, the only evidence that she had been there at all was the now-discarded paper lying near the front door and the exhaust smell from her used car's tailpipe. Well, that and Justin's chest that was still heaving with righteous indignation for his husband.

"That motherfucking asshole!" he growled. "How _DARE _she? How _dare_ she show up like that and say those things to _you_! If she ever shows up again, I swear I'll kick her ass from here to the street!" He continued to mutter under his breath, curses erupting as he spoke. Brian could feel him actually shaking in anger as he pulled Justin back against his chest and wrapped his arms around his waist.

"Shh…..It's okay," he murmured, softly rocking his husband in his arms. "She's gone, Justin. She won't ever bother us again." As he continued his attempt to calm Justin down, though, he couldn't understand why after all the horrid things Claire had just said to him why it hurt so much; why should he care about her or his former family _now_? He had a man he loved deeply, and a son he adored; he even had a new set of grandparents who cared about him and even a father that he would have the chance to get to know better and maybe eventually learn to consider a part of his real family. Why, then, should he care about what this horrible person thought of him? As he felt the pangs of pain and regret bubble to the surface, though, he realized he wasn't mourning what had been – he was mourning what _might _have been…..

He suddenly turned Justin around in his arms and hugged him in a fierce embrace, his hands gripping the blond's back almost violently as he sighed and a few tears escaped his eyes. He was finally comfortable enough in his relationship with Justin, however, not to be concerned with whether or not Justin noticed the wetness as he continued to hold him tightly against his body for several more seconds. At last, his silent tears spent, he pulled back enough to rest his head above the mop of golden hair. Justin instinctively nestled his head under Brian's chin and laid it against his chest, feeling the brunet's heart beating rapidly underneath him as they simply stood there in each other's protective embrace.

Finally, Justin raised his head and pulled back just enough to look into Brian's face; remaining silent, he slowly reached up to gently brush the shed tears from Brian's cheeks with his hands as if it were the most natural thing in the world. "Ready to go back inside?" he whispered tenderly as if he didn't even notice Brian had been crying. He knew precisely why Brian was upset, and he also knew Brian wouldn't want to talk about it right now or have him make a big deal out of it.

Brian gazed into his husband's eyes; God, he was so lucky to have this feisty, protective man by his side…He leaned down to kiss Justin lightly on the lips as a silent thank you for what he had done and simply for loving him. "Yeah," he told him softly. "Let's go back to bed." Right then, at that moment, he was holding what he needed most of all in his arms and what he _needed_ to do most of all was show this man just how much he meant to him. The door was soon closed firmly, the discarded paper of contention and hate fluttering softly in the still-wet, dewy morning grass…..

* * *

_Same Time – Fin and Tony's House – Harrisburg _

Tony wriggled his nose as he momentarily felt something ticklish across his cheek; he soon, however, nestled back into the mattress as the pesky insect flew way. A few seconds later, however, it was back, along with a soft rumbling chuckle. His eyelashes slowly fluttered open as he oriented himself to the early morning sunlight streaming in from the French doors of their bedroom and realized who the tormentor was. "What do you think you're doing?" he asked, spotting Fin lying on his side in their bed, nude as usual and wearing only a mischievous grin as he propped his head up with one elbow. His partner normally abhorred sleeping in clothes and was quite comfortable in his own glorious skin; thank God they had security throughout the grounds or no doubt the relentless press would have long ago discovered his little predilection for not wearing nighttime attire and broadcast that fact all over the web and in the newspapers.

Fin held up part of a bright pink feathered boa in his free hand as he trailed it lightly this time over Tony's chest as the blond's skin rippled in response at the ticklish sensation. "You've been in my costumes again, haven't you?" Tony accused his partner, recognizing the distinctive piece of apparel he had used during a masquerade party they had been invited to last year. Of course, back then he and Fin had had to arrive – and mingle – alone; this was long before Fin had actually come out as gay and had revealed that he had a (gasp!) partner he lived with. They had managed to steal a few moments of privacy alone that night for a couple of quick kisses and some serious petting, but they had wound up leaving separately as usual to avoid any hint of impropriety or risk any chance of Fin's sexual orientation being revealed. He was relieved, then, that at last neither of them had to lie or hide who and what they were. That didn't mean, though, that for the next several months both he and Fin wouldn't be dogged constantly wherever they went during the campaign. Perhaps he shouldn't put up all of his disguises away just yet, then….

"If you wanted to borrow my boa, Fin, all you had to do was ask," Tony teased his partner with a smile. "I think you'd look hot in shocking pink." Of course, his sexy partner looked hot in _whatever_ he was wearing, clothes or not….

"I think YOU look pretty hot right now," Fin murmured huskily as he hungrily gazed at the pale, smooth skin; his eyes swept down from the toned chest to the flat belly and then lingered on Tony's gloriously thick cock, which was springing to attention the longer he admired it. He looked up to see Tony blushing in response, adoring the way he could still make him do that even now.

He put the boa down behind him on the mattress and leaned over to bestow a kiss on the warm lips. "Why don't I try and cool you off?" he whispered against his partner's mouth as he heard the blond chuckled.

"No," Tony replied as Fin raised his brows in question. "But you can fuck me, though."

Fin laughed as he quickly pounced on top of his lover and proceeded to tickle him mercilessly with his bare hands until finally he couldn't help reaching down to once more kiss his partner's lips thoroughly in triumph, their passion quickly igniting as usual into a round of strenuous lovemaking….

* * *

_One Hour Later…. _

"Fin?" Tony was lying in Fin's arms, their sweaty skin quickly cooling in the chilliness of their bedroom; neither man had wanted to get up to turn on their gas fireplace to ward off the chill, preferring instead to generate some body heat of their own to keep warm. The blond lightly stroked his fingernails across Fin's chest as the brunet held him in his arms against the side of his body. Tony cherished moments like these – too often, they had to rush out of the house for some important trial or voting session, and did not have the luxury of lying leisurely in bed after making love. Today, however, was Sunday; the one day when they could look forward to a little down time for just the two of them, and Fin had been religious about adhering to their unspoken rule not to schedule anything that would interfere with their private time, at least in the morning.

Fin slowly rubbed Tony's upper arm with his thumb as he raised his head to peer into the blue eyes of his lover. "Yeah, Baby?"

"Justin and Brian should be back by now," he reminded him. "You're still going to talk to your son about what we discussed, aren't you?"

Fin sighed as he gazed at his persistent partner fondly. "You're not going to let that drop, are you? Why do I have this sneaking suspicion that you and maybe _another_ hot little blond are conspiring against both me and my son here?" It seemed that Tony and Justin had formed a rather close bond since they had met, almost in some sort of mutual protection of each other in light of being involved with two rather formidable, stubborn, and pig-headed men. Well, he and Brian _were_ related after all…..

"I have not," Tony said rather indignantly as he sputtered in protest. "I haven't even talked to Justin since they got back." Although, he had to admit, he _had_ thought about it. He would _still_ consider it, too; he dearly wanted to get Justin's opinion on making Brian Fin's campaign manager. He thought with Brian's expertise as an advertising genius – and by the looks of his company's profitability he had to be approaching that status – and his personal stake in Fin himself, he thought it was a brilliant idea. He had managed to persuade Fin to ask his son about it, but he would love to know what Justin thought Brian's response would be. If Brian declined, it wouldn't make any difference _what_ he or Fin thought…..

"Uh, huh," Fin replied with a smile. "I'll bet it's not for lack of trying, though; if I recall correctly, Justin mentioned that he had made Brian promise NOT to hang on his cell phone while they were gone. He was going to let everything go to voicemail, so I imagine Justin did the same. Are you going to stare back at me with those sexy baby blues and tell me you haven't at least left a message for Justin to call you when they got back?" As Tony flushed with guilt, he knew he really didn't need a verbal reply to his question….

Tony reached up to place his hand against Fin's cheek in admission. "Okay, maybe I did," he said sheepishly. "But only because I wanted Justin's opinion as to whether he thought Brian would consider it."

Fin sighed. "I figured as much. Tony….please – just let me do this myself. I should be the one to ask my son about it, without any coercion or persuasion from Justin, whom I'm sure has his finger tightly wrapped around him just like someone _else_ I know that can talk ME into doing just about anything."

Tony's mouth twisted into a resigned pout. "Okay," he reluctantly agreed. "But that doesn't mean Justin and I can't continue to compare notes."

Fin rolled his eyes "That's what I was afraid of," he replied with a stern face; both men knew, however, that it was merely a façade; Fin could no more be mad at Tony than he could avoid kissing the asses, at least metaphorically speaking, of financial bigwigs at his upcoming fundraisers. "Just give me fair warning before you and Justin throw me under the bus with my son, then, okay?"

"We just like to compare notes," Tony countered, his eyes twinkling. "You two keep us on our toes." He reached down to curl his hand possessively around his partner's quickly-hardening cock, receiving the customary groan of pleasure in return; his heart as always did flip-flops over the power he held over this magnificent man. "But you can keep me off my feet as long as you want today."

Fin grinned. "Now that's the best rebuttal I've ever heard, Counselor," he said huskily as he leaned over and promptly began to ravage the soft, pink lips once more; as their arms wound around each other, just for a while the crazy world outside disappeared from view as the two lovers began their dance of passion once again ….

* * *

_Monday Morning _

"So, my happy little housewife, what's on the agenda today while I'm at work, slaving over my desk to put bread and milk on our table to keep food in your widdle tummy?"

Justin managed to land a pretty effective slap to Brian's hand in response as they sat at the kitchen counter finishing up their breakfast; fortunately, it was the one holding up the paper rather than his coffee. "Be careful what you say, Kinney," he growled. "_Happy little housewives_ have used withholding sex since the days of Henry the 8th to get what they want. Why do you think he needed so many wives?"

Brian snorted. "Probably because he kept beheading them. We all know how cranky people are who don't have a good head on their shoulders, or any up their asses."

Justin rolled his eyes as he pushed him playfully, his eyes twinkling. "Isn't it time for you to go to work, He Man? Remember – longer commute." Actually, he would have liked nothing better than for Brian to stay home and keep him company, but he realized that was just wishful thinking. He knew Brian had to get back to Kinnetik to help keep his agency running smoothly. Brian was fortunate to have employees like Cynthia and Ted he could depend upon, but the major players he did business with wanted the personal touch and ego stroking that only Brian could give them.

Brian smirked. "Thanks for reminding me, twat," he said, sliding off the bar stool and swatting Justin on the ass. "Come here," he growled huskily as he pulled the blond off his adjacent stool. Justin fell into his arms as they came together for a passionate, tongue-dueling kiss that still made Justin's toes curls in delicious pleasure each time. As they reluctantly broke off their kiss, Brian couldn't help nuzzling Justin's neck briefly as he whispered softly in his ear, "I love you."

Justin raised his head to smile into the hazel eyes lovingly as his heart melted at the words and tone of Brian's voice. It had taken so long for Brian to say those words out loud, so fucking long, and even now, even after Brian was finally more comfortable saying them, each time he said them it made his heart do flip-flops. He placed both of his hands on either side of Brian's face to whisper back, "Come home soon."

Brian smiled as he gave Justin one more quick peck on the lips and nodded. "I'll be home before you know it, Picasso," he said softly. He reached over to take one more final gulp of coffee before placing the mug down on the counter and hurrying over to the kitchen planning desk to pick up his black briefcase and keys. "Let me know when the security people show up, okay?" he asked just before he turned to go. After his nasty encounter with Claire yesterday, he wanted to make sure they were aware of every person who showed up from now on. After the security people were done, no one would be able to enter their front wrought-iron gate without permission or a pass code and the total perimeter would be wired as well. He wanted to make sure that Justin was totally safe any time he was away from him; his husband tended to lock himself up in his studio and became oblivious to everything else going on around him when he was painting, and after the events of their recent honeymoon, something told him Justin was itching to get started on a new piece. "Justin?"

His husband nodded, already apparently distracted as he began to think of all the new ideas he had for his next painting. "Yeah, I'll call you," he reassured him with a smile.

"Make sure you lock the doors, especially while you're up in your studio," Brian demanded.

"How did you know I was going up to the studio?" Justin asked as he shook his head. He stared over at Brian sheepishly as the brunet raised his eyebrows in amusement with a distinct look of _do you really have to ask? _"Never mind….I promise," he assured him with a smile just before Brian gave him one final nod and escaped out the door heading into their garage.

* * *

_Same Time – Wilkes-Barre, Pennsylvania_

The tall, distinguished, older man with salt-and-pepper hair strode up to the rather nondescript, brick industrial building located on the outskirts of the city's manufacturing hub; although the eastern side of town had long ago passed the golden days of prosperity, it still retained a lot of the quaintness of its heyday with rows of townhouses and brownstones nearby, situated on mature, tree-lined streets. The beauty of the surrounding residential area had partially helped to keep the city from withering away completely, despite the rapid depletion of businesses that were dying off in the staid economy.

Conservative voters in the district, primarily firmly in the Republican camp, had helped create a groundswell of support for their hometown candidate, an affluent, no-holds barred businessman by the name of Richard Turner. Turner had never held public office before, and therefore seemed a highly unlikely candidate for serious contention as governor; however, through a mix of well-placed, influential contacts and constituents tired of the same old runaround from old-school politicians, he had somehow managed to come out of virtually nowhere to become the top Republican contender for governor against the Democrats' choice, State Senator Fin O'Connor.

The rather haggard-looking man who opened the front door to Turner's main campaign headquarters glanced across the room a little warily as he entered to see a likeness of the candidate plastered onto a large, white vinyl banner displayed on the opposite wall. Above the centered photo, which depicted Turner in a white business shirt with his sleeves rolled up, wearing black dress pants and sitting at a desk looking busily at work on the phone, was the man's name in big, bold, royal blue letters. Below his picture was one of his slogans in white letters with a red border: _He will turn things around. _

The tall man slowly walked up to a campaign worker, barely out of his teens, who was sitting at the wooden desk directly below the banner. He impatiently waited a couple of seconds to be acknowledged before finally clearing his throat to get the other man's attention. The brunet, wearing a small goatee and a button with Turner's likeness on it, raised his head to stare into the harsh-looking, dark-brown eyes; eyes that were somewhat confrontational and haughty in nature. "Can I help you?" he asked, finding himself just a bit flustered by the intense scrutiny.

The visitor opened his mouth to speak when he was interrupted. "Jim! Come on in! I've been expecting you!" He turned at the sound of his friend's voice. Richard Turner smiled and held the door open to his private office located in one of the larger rooms of the building. "In here," he said.

His guest nodded as he gave the younger campaign worker a sort of derisive sneer before walking over to join his friend; the worker gave him a curious glance as he left, wondering who this person was who had gained immediate access to his boss' inner sanctum.

As the door closed behind him, shrouding the two friends in privacy, he finally had the chance to speak. "Tell me that's not your campaign manager," he told the other man in distaste. If that was the best that Turner could do, he knew the man would be in big trouble against O'Connor, especially in light of who was no doubt going to be helping with his opponent's campaign.

Turner laughed. "No way, Jim," he said. "You know I have more sense than that. Now what did you want to see me about?"

"First of all, I need your promise to keep our discussions totally private," he warned the other man.

"Hey, as long as you keep finding all these big-buck supporters for my campaign, my lips are sealed; besides, I don't think it would be in my best interest to make it known that you're helping me with my election…do you?"

The other man glared at him defensively. "I'm well aware of that; do you want my fucking help or not?"

Turner held up his hands in surrender as he stated soothingly, "Of course I do, you know that. I'm as interested in making sure that fag doesn't become Governor as much as _you_ are. Have a seat and we'll get started – I've got some coffee brewing – it should be ready soon." He smiled in an attempt to placate the glowering man staring back at him until finally his visitor nodded and sat down in a wooden chair facing his desk.

"Black?" Turner asked as his visitor nodded. Walking over to his credenza behind the desk, he deftly poured two dark-blue cups full of the dark liquid and brought them over to his visitor's chair, handing one to him as he took a seat in the empty chair next to him. "Now, my friend," Turner said as he took a small sip of his coffee and then balanced the cup on his left knee. "Tell me what you have in mind for my campaign."

Jim Stockwell smiled.

* * *

_Two Hours Later – Britin_

Justin beamed as he opened the door for his guest. "Hey!" Tony cried out with a smile as he impetuously reached over and gave the younger man a quick hug. "How was the honeymoon?" Of course, he really didn't have to ask; it was written all over Justin's radiant face. "Is Brian really as good an ad man as he claims?" He was actually asking for two reasons, only one of which had to do with the two men's honeymoon….

"Oh, my God!" Justin cried out in excitement, his blue eyes shining in recollection. "He is definitely an advertising _genius_! Wait until I show you what all he planned for us! Come on in," he invited his friend. Tony smiled as he followed Justin inside.

"I thought we'd eat on the back patio if you want," he said. "I've been upstairs in my studio painting and I'm ready to get some fresh air for a while."

Tony nodded as he followed Justin into the kitchen. "Would you grab a couple of beers out of the refrigerator?" he asked Tony as he snatched up a rectangular, metal platter with the words _Ireland – It's for Lovers_ on the front that was holding a couple of Reuben sandwiches and some small bags of chips. When Tony had called Justin earlier to see if he might be free, Justin had hurriedly whipped up the two sandwiches for an informal lunch. In the short time he and Tony had known each other, they had become like kindred spirits – both involved with a father and son who were more alike than even they realized, and he had been looking forward to his visit.

Tony, also, had quickly come to admire Justin's tenacity, passion, and courage not only in his art but also his personal life. In fact, if it hadn't been for Justin's refusal to keep his and Brian's relationship or sexual orientation a secret, Tony might not have had the courage to give Fin an ultimatum regarding their own partnership. Ultimately, Fin had not only decided he couldn't live without Tony, it had also given him the impetus to admit to the public that he was gay and involved with someone. Now at least they could live more openly, although Fin was still cautious about publicizing it too prominently, needing to not only garner the liberal vote he mainly already had in his pocket, but also needing to at least grab some of the more moderate Republican votes if he were to have any viable chance of winning the election.

As he thought about the upcoming election, Tony sat down across from Justin at the patio's round table and eyed his friend thoughtfully. He wasn't sure how Fin would feel about him paying Justin a visit regarding this, but on the other hand, he didn't really think Fin would mind.

"Tony?" Justin asked, holding out one of the sandwiches. He had been trying to get his friend's attention for some time, but Tony's mind was obviously preoccupied elsewhere. "Something wrong?"

Tony smiled slightly in reassurance as he shook his head. "No…..Just something on my mind. I DO want to hear all about your honeymoon with Brian," he began, feeling somewhat envious over Justin's wondrous adventure when he was still trying to convince Fin to even consider getting married eventually. But I DO have something else I wanted to talk to you about, too." He glanced down and smiled in amusement at the tray holding their lunch. "Nice platter by the way. Honeymoon souvenir?"

Justin blushed. "Yeah….Brian had a fit when he saw it – said it was too tacky for his taste, but I insisted on a memento. I had to hide it in my own suitcase, though; it was the only way he'd let me bring it back with me." Justin took a sip of his beer before placing the bottle back down on the table as he eyed his friend curiously. "So…..what's up?"

"It's about Fin's campaign," Tony told him. "I had an inspiration while the two of you were gone and I wanted to run something by you. I figure you know Brian better than anyone."

Justin nodded. Yes, he felt confident that he did, at least now. It had taken a while before Michael's grasp as Brian's confidante ran its course; for the longest time, Brian still seemed to feel this pull to tell all his troubles and problems to his childhood best friend. Eventually, though, with Michael married to Ben and he and Brian drawing ever closer together themselves, Brian had finally felt comfortable coming to him first with his problems and worries. Now he could confidently state to anyone that he and Brian were not only husbands and soul mates, but best friends as well who shared everything. "What's up?" he said.

"Well, I remember you telling me that Brian had worked on some politician's campaign before, doing the advertising to help get him elected."

Justin shuddered. "Yeah….Jim Stockwell; don't remind me. Brian did such an effective job, he almost wound up getting the fucker elected. He was the biggest homophobic prick there was; if he had gotten elected mayor of Pittsburgh, the city would have been a major Gestapo destination." He shook his head, recalling how hard – and how much money – Brian had had to invest to reverse what he had done. Thankfully, Brian had finally realized how many freedoms they would give up were Stockwell to be elected and had gone to drastic lengths to secretly oppose the man's campaign– to the tune of $100,000 and at the risk of potential personal insolvency. Fortunately, partly through his own determination and a lot of financial help from his friends, a disaster had been averted just in time and the man had been defeated for mayor. Stockwell had ultimately wound up being incriminated in the death of Jason Kemp after his corrupt former partner, Kenneth Rykert, had killed himself. Due no doubt to his friends in both the police department and judicial system, however, the worse that had happened to the man was loss of his police pension and five years in prison. Justin figured the man was still rotting in jail somewhere, but he had long lost track of the guy as he concentrated on his art career and his marriage to Brian instead.

"That's what I thought," Tony was saying in response to Justin's remark. "That's why I think he'd be perfect."

Justin reached down to pick up his sandwich and take a bite, noticing Tony hadn't touched anything yet. "Perfect for what?"

_Here goes_, Tony thought. "Perfect as Fin's campaign manager."

Justin almost choked on his Reuben. "His _campaign manager_? Tony, you've got to be kidding me! What does Brian know about running a gubernatorial campaign?"

"Nothing," Tony promptly agreed. "Just like the majority of everyone _else_ who runs them knows. Think about it, though, Justin," he continued, his voice rising in passion as he spoke. "He's the best advertising man around – you told me he took his new agency and made it profitable to the tune of several million dollars within a fucking _year! _And he's out and definitely proud; he doesn't take shit from anybody, and wouldn't in the campaign, either. And he's got a vested interest in the outcome, because I'm sure he'd want Fin to win. He wouldn't back down from anybody, including the press or hecklers. He's articulate, intelligent, and has to be a whiz at multi-tasking and prioritizing. Justin, he'd be absolutely _perfect!_ Fin has a lot of backers and infrastructure in place, but the man who ran all his state senator campaigns had a heart attack last year and isn't in good enough health to tackle the big one for Governor." He leaned over the table to stare at Justin's incredulous face. "Justin, don't you think he'd be ideal for it? With Fin as the candidate and with his popularity among the masses already, and Brian's expertise in advertising, it would be great! And we'd even get the added bonus that they would be given a chance to do some good, old-fashioned father-son bonding along the way."

Justin momentarily forgot his sandwich as he held it up in mid-air and supported it with his elbow. "I don't know, Tony," he said hesitantly; his friend was actually beginning to make sense, though. It _would _be a good match for father and son. Brian hadn't exactly had a lot of experience with political campaigns, but he was an expert at promoting products and _had_ almost managed to single-handedly get that fucker Stockwell elected. Even with the propaganda posters he had made up and pasted all over town, the man was almost unstoppable. Only Brian's ingenious rebuttal to his own advertising campaign had managed to bring the man down. If he could do that for a candidate he really didn't have any connection with, just think what he could do for his own father…

Tony could see the vacillation in Justin's eyes as he saw his friend mulling over the idea. "You think I'm right, don't you?" Tony pressed eagerly. It was almost as if it were meant to be…

Justin laid his sandwich down on a paper plate and rubbed his hand through his hair restlessly. Was Tony right? Could Brian be the right choice to head his father's campaign? Perhaps more importantly, how would Brian himself feel about it? Because when it was all said and done, he was the only one who could agree or refuse. He raised one eyebrow and pursed his lips together as he mulled the idea over further. "I have to admit – the idea _is_ sort of intriguing."

"See?" Tony replied, smiling, getting excited that he was hopefully starting to win his friend over. He knew Brian was a very independent, proud man, but he _also_ knew how much Justin's opinion meant to him. If he could get Justin in his camp, he felt sure that Brian would probably agree to do it. "Justin…Fin had some doubts, too," he conceded. "But once I talked to him about it, he's warmed up to the idea now."

Justin twisted one side of his mouth up in amusement. "You've really gone to bat for this, haven't you? I have a feeling though, that Fin is just as stubborn about what he does or doesn't want to do as his son is. Brian always listens to what I have to say, and he values my opinion but in the end, believe me, he makes up his own mind. The most I could do is just lay out the pros and cons and let him decide what he wants to do. But I'll back him either way." He didn't really relish the idea of their private lives being invaded even more than they no doubt _already_ would be now that Brian's connection to Fin O'Connor was out in the open. But he would go along with whatever Brian decided, especially if it meant he might possibly become closer to his father. That had been one of his most fervent wishes for his husband from the moment he had found out that he had been adopted. Brian deserved to have a _real_ father, if that was what he wanted, and Justin had to agree with Tony – this could provide father and son with a great opportunity to get to know each other better.

"It just might work, Tony," Justin admitted. "I have no doubt that Brian could pull it off; he could sell ice cubes to an Eskimo," he stated with a laugh. "Whether he would _want_ to do it is another matter, though. You said Fin's in agreement with you?"

Tony nodded as Justin added, "So you want me to talk to Brian and feel him out on it."

Tony nodded. "Yeah….will you do it? I mean, at least talk to him and see how he feels?"

Justin nodded back at him. "Sure….should make for interesting dinner conversation, anyway," he said, grinning. He took another quick bite of his sandwich. "Now….ready to see more photos of Ireland than you ever thought possible?" He had taken practically a photo for each inch they had traveled in the country; he had taken a lot of good-natured ribbing about it from Brian, but he couldn't help it. He wanted to remember each glorious moment of their trip together.

Tony grinned as he nodded. "Bring them on – may be the closest I get to my _own_ honeymoon."

Justin rose from his chair and smiled, knowing Tony was trying to come off as teasing but realizing there was a little hint of wistfulness in his voice, too. _Maybe someday, Tony_, he thought sympathetically as he walked over to the French doors to retrieve his camera. _Maybe someday….._

* * *

_Next Day - Mid-Morning, Kinnetik_

Cynthia glanced up from her desk as the handsome man walked in; even now after knowing who this man was, she was struck by the likeness. There was no doubt where Brian had obtained his good looks. She smiled politely. "Senator O'Connor. It's good to see you again."

Fin reached over to shake her hand. "You too….and please, call me Fin."

She nodded. "Fin, then…..I assume you're here to see Brian?"

Fin smiled. "Yes….I'm sorry for just dropping in unannounced," he said apologetically. "I was down here on some other business, though, and thought I'd take a chance that he was here. I believe he and Justin were due back from Ireland a couple of days ago. Is he in by chance?"

Cynthia nodded. "Yeah, he's here – you know Brian; you can take the man out of the business, but not the business out of the man. I'm surprised he managed to go an entire week without conducting Kinnetik business from abroad. Just shows how much influence Justin must have on him." Of course, that was no real surprise to Cynthia – she knew Justin had had a major impact on Brian for a long time now. She had been struck by how happy and rested Brian had looked when he had walked in this morning; his honeymoon – and marriage – had obviously agreed with him. He had even brought her back a small gift as a token of appreciation for her help during his absence – a delicate, silver bracelet with a Claddaugh design. Justin had definitely changed Brian for the better in a lot of ways. "I'll tell Brian you're here," she told him as he nodded his thanks.

A few seconds later, though, she glanced back up at her visitor. "I can see he's on the phone at the moment," she told him regretfully. "Why don't you take a seat over there on the couch? I'll get you some coffee while you're waiting, and as soon as Brian's off the phone I'll let him know you're here."

Fin shook his head. "No, thanks, Cynthia; I've had four cups today already. I'll just go have a seat until he can see me." She nodded as he walked over to take a seat on a soft-brown, leather couch. Picking up a publication lying on the coffee table, he noticed it was an annual profitability report for his son's company. Leafing through it, he was impressed at the sales figures; Brian really was amazing. He had taken a fledgling company and had quickly turned into a multi-million advertising agency; THE most profitable one in the city, if he recalled his information correctly. Perhaps Brian _was_ the best man for the job he had in mind – he just had to convince his son of that…

"Fin?" He looked up startled as the object of his musing walked up to him unexpectedly. He must have gotten off the phone before Cynthia had a chance to notice. "What are _you_ doing here?" Brian asked him curiously.

Fin stood up, feeling just a bit uncomfortable for some reason. He wasn't sure why, but he still felt a little nervous when he was around his son; perhaps it was because it felt so much like staring back at his own reflection. "I….I wanted to talk to you about something. Do you have a minute?"

Brian studied his father carefully; he almost seemed apprehensive about something. "Uh….sure," he said finally, holding his arm out in the direction of his office. "This way," he said as Fin nodded and began to walk down the hallway, slightly ahead of his son. He heard Brian tell Cynthia he didn't want to be disturbed, and he felt some odd sense of pride in that; at least Brian felt his presence was important enough to give them some privacy.

"In here," Brian instructed him softly as they reached a large, contemporary room. "Drink?" his son asked him.

Fin normally didn't drink during the day, but at the moment he felt like he could use a little confidence booster. "Yeah, thanks," he said as Brian nodded and walked over to his wet bar to pour them both a shot of Beam. Walking over to his father, he told him, "Have a seat," nudging his head over to his cream-colored couch. Fin accepted the outstretched glass as he turned and sat down toward the center of the couch; he eyed his son quietly. Brian took a swig of his own drink as he chose to stand facing his father for now. He wasn't quite ready to be buddy-buddy with him just yet – maybe never. "So….what did you want to talk to me about?"

"Did you and Justin have a good time on your trip?" Fin blurted out. That wasn't what he had intended to say at all, but it was a nice, safe topic; an ice-breaker until he could ask Brian what he _really_ wanted to ask him about.

Brian stared at him a little suspiciously. "It was fine," he told his father warily. "But I'm sure that's not the actual reason why you dropped in here unannounced. What do you _really_ want, Fin?"

Fin took a deep breath, deciding it was time to dispense with the pleasantries. He actually respected his son's ability to cut through the bullshit and get right to the point, so he owed him the same courtesy. Without preamble, then, he simply replied, "I want you to be my campaign manager."


	10. Will He or Won't He?

Brian almost dropped his glass of Beam on the marble floor. "Excuse me?" he said, arching one eyebrow regally and looking at his father as if he had grown an extra head. "I couldn't have heard that right. I could have sworn you just asked me to be your campaign manager."

Fin sighed to himself; he had tried to tell Tony that would be his son's likely reaction, and apparently he had turned out to be right – Brian was looking at him as if he had lost his mind, and perhaps he had…

He plowed on nonetheless since it was already out in the open. "You heard right," he told his son from his position on the couch. "I'd like you to oversee the advertising for my campaign – after all, you excel at selling products and that's what I am – a product that needs to be sold to the voters. You would be perfect for the job." _At least that's what my partner told me, anyway…._ He wondered briefly if it was a good idea to have two personalities that were so much alike working so closely together, but just by being around his son in the short time they had known each other and doing a little research about his company, he knew Brian was the best at what he did, and he _was_ a commodity that needed to be promoted; he couldn't think of a better PR person to do it, then, than his wildly-successful, think-out-of-the-box son.

Brian stared at him, incredulous. "You're shitting me, right?"

Fin shook his head. "No….in fact, I understand you've already had prior experience doing something quite similar."

Brian snorted as he took a gulp of his Beam. "You've been talking to my husband." He knew exactly what – or should he say _whom_ - his father was referring to; Stockwell wasn't exactly the epitome of class and aplomb to hold a high standard to. If anything, he was the perfect poster boy for a homophobic, right-wing jerk. He winced inwardly as he thought about what he had almost accomplished; he certainly wasn't proud of the fact that he had almost got the asshole elected. If it hadn't been for Justin smacking some common sense into him, he probably would have succeeded, too.

Fin had the decency to look a little embarrassed as he admitted, "Not directly. But I have it on good authority that a couple of blonds talk to each other quite a bit when we're not around."

Brian shrugged as he leaned against the wet bar and stared at his father. "And here I thought they were just exchanging recipes," he quipped. He knew that Justin and Tony had become good friends since they had met a few months ago; he had seen the two with their little blond heads together several times since then, conspiring like a couple of happy little housewives – hell, the two even _giggled_ alike when something struck their fancy, even though Tony had to be at least 20 years older than Justin.

Fin peered at his son, grinning slightly at his attempt at humor. "Well, there may have been an ingredient list pass hands for Tony's signature chicken lasagna dish, but they've been talking about a lot more than that. And I think my partner has persuaded _your _'partner' that you would make a hell of a campaign manager for me." He had spoken to Tony last night and discovered that he had paid Justin a little social call at Britin to help enlist him into their camp. It had been hard to disguise Tony's excited voice as he told him that he had persuaded a certain talented artist to help them out as only he was able to do….

Brian silently vowed to have a little chat with a certain blond when he got home later, a little perturbed that Justin hadn't discussed this issue with him first; he didn't like being blindsided, especially when it came to something regarding his father. He was still coming to terms with the fact that he even _had _a different father, and he still wasn't quite sure what to make of Fin yet.

He eyed the other man from his place at the bar quietly for a few seconds before he responded, "If you know anything at all about Stockwell's campaign, then you _also_ know what a fucking mess it all was." Even though everything had eventually turned out in the end, he still felt a strong twinge of regret over his part in the whole affair; not only had it cost him a great deal financially – at least temporarily – but it had also cost him a loss of respect in Justin's eyes. That had perhaps hurt most of all.

"Maybe it was for a while," Fin conceded. "But I understand you finally decided to work toward undermining Stockwell instead of endorsing him once you figured out what you and a lot of others had to lose. And you managed to turn a sure thing into a loss for him as a result. That had to have taken a lot of guts as well as expertise to accomplish that, Brian. And that's the kind of person I need to lead my campaign."

Brian shook his head, unconvinced. "I'm not a politician, Fin; frankly I don't give a shit about politics at _all_. Besides, no matter who gets elected, someone's always got you in your pocket that you're beholden to. Face it – you would be no different than any of the others."

Fin's gray eyes flashed as he placed his drink down on the glass coffee table in front of him. "That's not true, Brian! Yeah….I've got financial backers just like any other candidate would have. But I intentionally limit the amount that any supporter can give me specifically so I am _not_ obligated to any one interest or lobby group. I am my own man – not someone else's flunky. And I intend to stay that way."

Brian raised his eyebrows as he studied this man who looked so much like him. He certainly _sounded_ sincere enough in his convictions, but what did he really know about him yet? It wasn't like he had done any in-depth research about his father's political stand on any of the issues. He had intentionally tried to stay out of the whole fracas; now he wanted him to run his whole fucking campaign? "I'll accept that statement at face value," he finally told his father because he had no reason necessarily to doubt him. "But that still doesn't sell me on selling _you_."

Fin blew out a frustrated breath between his lips. "Okay, I'll accept that. But let's do an about face here, then; let me pitch an ad campaign to _you_."

Brian looked at him amusement. "You want to do my job?"

Fin curled his lips under. "If that's what it takes," he told his son.

Brian smiled, thinking this should be interesting; perhaps he could find out if he had inherited his persuasive skills from his biological father. "Okay," he agreed, walking over and sitting down on the other end of the couch. He placed his drink down next to his father's and crossed his hands over his chest as he stretched his long legs out in front of him. _This should be interesting…._. "Give it your best shot."

Fin swallowed hard and cleared his throat. Despite his nervousness, he wasn't going to back down; he firmly believed his son was the right man for the job. Now all he had to do was convince Brian of that.

He reached over to retrieve the hard, black leather briefcase he always took with him wherever he went and, propping it up on his knees, he unsnapped the two latches and sprung it open. Brian watched him curiously as he reached in and took out a medium-sized, soft-sided, spiral drawing book. Wordlessly, he held it out to his son expectantly as he closed the briefcase and placed it back beside him on the couch. He held his breath as Brian grasped the book and glanced at the illustrated front cover.

The cover of the book, which was a plain ivory color, had been emblazoned across the top with the words "Fin's Persuasion Campaign." It had a caricature of his father on the front, standing behind a podium, looking solemn and impassioned as he gestured with his hands. There was a cartoon balloon drawn coming out of his mouth which said, "Kinney, you're the man for the job."

Brian sighed and rolled his eyes, immediately recognizing the artist who had done the illustration. _Little fucker…_Apparently Justin _had_ been doing more than just swapping recipes; the only question was when had he had time to do all this? He could have sworn he had kept Justin quite busy during their honeymoon – AND afterward. Evidently not 'busy' enough….. He peered over at his father who merely shrugged his shoulders noncommittally and smiled.

"Humph," Brian growled. "Remind me to take someone's crayons away from him the next time I see him." He thought he heard a slight chuckle coming from his father as he flipped open the book; on the first page in Justin's flowing script was a handwritten title sheet: _Reasons why Brian Kinney would be a kick-ass campaign manager._ His husband had even sketched a full-length caricature of him as well, complete with a pencil stuck behind his ear and his head adorned with one of those dorky, round-brimmed, white campaign hats with red, white, and blue trim around it. He was sitting on top of a desk, his legs hanging in front of him, as he looked at what appeared to be a clipboard of some sort in his hand. _How quaint…..At least I seem to be wearing Gucci…. _

Fin pursed his lips together as he watched his son's reaction, trying hard not to laugh. It reminded him so much of the same type of facial expressions he would plaster on his own face sometimes when Tony did something sneaky, too, like trying to substitute his full-blown, caffeine-laden coffee with some half and half crap; even though he could smell and taste it a mile away, Tony was forever trying to mix leaded and unleaded together in hopes he wouldn't notice. This, however, was much more important than trying to change a morning coffee habit. His son's agreeing to go along with this might spell the difference between success and failure; it was quite possible that in all the excitement of finding out that he had a son he hadn't done a very good job of telling Brian just how important this campaign was to him. He still felt he could do so much more good as governor than as a state senator. He had a lot of policies he wanted to put in place – not just having to do with gay rights – but so many other things that he had a passion for. He truly felt his son was ideal for the role of his campaign manager. Could he convince Brian of that, though?

He continued to observe his son as Brian flipped to the next page. He noticed Brian twisting his mouth wryly as he stared at Justin's artwork, not sure if it was an amused expression or one of irritation. Tony had admitted to him yesterday that he had talked Justin into helping him put the sketchbook together in hopes it would help convince Brian to assist him with his campaign; at the time he had been quite irritated with Tony for doing that on the sly, but in retrospect he had to admit, if anyone could help convince his son to help him, it would be his husband.

Brian slowly flipped through the book, noting Justin had drawn a caricature of either him or Fin on every page, along with another reason why he would be the perfect campaign manager for his father: he didn't back down from controversy, he thought fast on his feet, he was creative and liked to think outside the box (he had to smile at Justin's depiction of him as 'The Thinker' with his back against a large, oversized cardboard box, a light bulb drawn over his head), he had the machinery for such a campaign already in place, and finally on a more personal note, it would help him and his father to 'bond.'

He detested the word 'bond;' it made him feel like he was a tube of Super Glue. He knew one of Justin's most fervent wishes was that he and Fin would become closer, maybe not as close as a typical father-son might be, but at least perhaps good friends. He wasn't sure that would ever happen – he still hardly knew the man – but he realized Justin really wanted that for him; it was literally written all over the pages of this sketchbook he held in his hands. As he came to the last page of it and flipped it shut, he stood there silently, his hands curled on either side of the volume as he contemplated what to do. Courtesy of Stockwell, he had gained at least a small glimpse into just how disruptive it would be to help run a political campaign; both his and Justin's lives would be turned upside down into a fucking circus if he agreed to do this. Was it worth the nightmare it might cause? Did he even want to get that involved? This wouldn't just be a one-time shot; he knew for the next several months, he would be eating, sleeping, and dreaming about this job 24/7. Was it worth all the trouble and headache it would no doubt cause just for the chance of getting to know his father better?

"Brian?" he turned his head at the sound of his father's voice, noticing what appeared to be a look of nervous anticipation on his face; it was a look he wasn't accustomed to seeing there. Normally, his father came across as confident and self-assured, at least in the presence of others and on camera; could his father be just as unsure of what to do as he was?

Fin stared into the hazel eyes of his son, wondering what was going on inside his head. He would never be an advertising whiz like Brian was, but it didn't take a genius to know this would not be an easy sell, trying to convince Brian to help him in his campaign, even with Justin's assistance. He took a calming breath before asking quietly, "So….what do you think?"

Brian smirked as he looked down at the 'advertising pitch' he was holding. "I think I'm vastly outnumbered here, that's what I think." He peered back over at his father as his expression sobered. "You're asking a lot of me, though, Fin. And I think Justin should have come to me first before he agreed to do this." He was definitely going to have a little chat with a certain blond when he got home…..

"Don't blame Justin," Fin hastily replied; he had been afraid that was precisely what Brian would do once he found out; the last thing he wanted was to cause a rift between his son and his new husband. "Tony can be quite persuasive when he wants to be; that's why he's one of the best attorneys in the state. He knows how talented an artist Justin is and naturally thought he would be ideal for helping to illustrate why, in my opinion, you're the best person for the job."

He noticed his son was remaining decidedly silent as he wondered what was going through his mind. "I wouldn't expect you to do this gratis," he clarified, surmising that perhaps that was one of his concerns. "I'm fully prepared to pay you a very competitive retainer for use of your services, just like any other client would."

Brian huffed out an insulted breath. "I'm not concerned about the money, Fin," he growled. "I'm concerned about the chaos and lack of privacy that will ensue if I agree to do this. Why should I put myself and Justin through all that shit? What's in it for me other than a lot of trouble and headache?"

Fin sighed, just a little irritated; he was trying hard to get to know his son better, but he needed to be met halfway. Yes, he was convinced that his son would be quite effective as his campaign manager – he certainly had the expertise and background needed to do the job – and he certainly wanted to come out victorious in the gubernatorial election, but didn't Brian understand the _real_ reason why he wanted him to do it? He wanted a closer relationship with him, to get to know him, but sometimes he felt like he was banging his head against the wall. It wasn't _his_ fault that he didn't even know he existed until a few months ago. Since he had discovered a son he didn't know he had, he had spent the time trying hard to make amends, but Brian was making it extremely difficult.

He placed his hands on his upper legs and squeezed them firmly in a sort of defensive posture as he softly admitted, "I was hoping you would do it in part so we could develop a deeper relationship." He eyed his son thoughtfully. "I was also hoping that was what you wanted, too. Was I wrong?"

Brian stood up and restlessly ran his hands through his hair as he turned his back on his father to consider that question. What _did_ he want with his father? Did he even _want_ a 'real' father? He certainly never thought of Jack Kinney that way. In fact, now that he had found out from Claire just why the man had gone along with his adoption, he despised his adoptive parents even more. There was a certain beauty and even poetic justice in knowing he had never really had any ties with those two cold-hearted people in the first place; but that didn't automatically mean that he wanted to pursue a deeper relationship with his true father. Just what _did_ he want? The answer was much more complex than just a simple yes or no.

He turned to face Fin, noticing his father peering over at him intently. He raised his eyes to the ceiling for a moment in contemplation before he returned his gaze to answer honestly, "I don't know what I want. I've never really had a father, Fin – or a mother for that matter. I was just a convenient way to proudly carry on the Kinney name." He snorted as he issued a small, derisive laugh. "Guess I really fucked that up for them, didn't I? They should have checked my DNA more thoroughly – maybe they could have found my queer gene somewhere in there and saved themselves a lot of trouble."

Fin looked at his son in sympathy, finding his heart going out to this wildly-successful man who was now happily married to his soulmate but apparently still damaged by the lack of love he had found growing up. If for no other reason, even if Brian didn't accept his offer, he had to try and ensure that his son knew he was valuable and respected as the person he was, not the person those two asshole adoptive 'parents' wanted him to be.

He rose from his seat and walked the few steps over to his son, not quite sure what to do or say; after all, this was as new to him as it was to Brian, but he felt he had to do something. He rather awkwardly placed his hand on Brian's sleeve as his son looked back at him curiously. "Your so-called adoptive parents were a couple of moronic idiots," Fin snarled in contempt. "They didn't deserve you, Brian, and they're not worth your time or your consideration. You should be fucking proud of yourself – despite what you apparently had to deal with growing up, you're happily married with an extremely successful business and a wonderful son. I can't think of a better _fuck you_ than that."

Brian eyes widened at that statement; that was certainly unexpected. He wasn't used to someone actually giving him credit for what he did or who he was, except for maybe Justin and Michael. The vulnerable side of him wanted to think Fin was telling him this because he truly believed he was worthy, while the cynical, suspicious side of him wondered if there was an ulterior motive behind his support.

As if he could read his mind, Fin told him softly, "I mean it, Brian. You may not know it _now_, but ask Tony; I never say anything I don't mean. I'm not trying to use some political mumbo jumbo talk just to get you to take the job." He smiled wistfully as he curled his lips under. "Although, I certainly wouldn't object if it had a positive effect on the outcome."

He received a small smile from his son in response as he released his hold on Brian's sleeve; something told him he wasn't going to get an answer to his offer today, not that he had really expected to. This would be a long, drawn-out commitment, both time and labor extensive. Before Brian agreed to do it – hopefully he _would_ agree – he wanted him to be sure. He somehow knew instinctively that if Brian DID accept, he would be in it for the long haul, because that's the type of person he was. He didn't seem to back down from any challenge once he had made up his mind to conquer it. He knew his son was perfect for the job, but he would have to wait and see if Brian concurred as well.

"Look," he told him. "Just think about it, okay? Obviously I need to get my campaign cranked into high gear soon, but I want you to be sure of your decision. Will you at least consider it and let me know?" He held his breath, hoping that Brian wouldn't dismiss the idea outright. He also hoped that his son wouldn't go home and give Justin a hard time for his part in his scheme; Tony had assured him, though, that Justin wanted to help, even though he had been adamant that he would abide by whatever decision his husband made.

Brian took a deep breath, undecided about what to do. Frankly, part of him was excited about the idea of running such a large, extensive campaign; it would be by far the most ambitious endeavor he had ever attempted, and it would be unlike anything he had ever done before, dwarfing the Stockwell campaign in comparison. It would be such a rush to have so much power in his hands and to wield such authority over literally thousands of people under him. And he had to grudgingly admit, it would be nice to get to know his father better; he was slowly gaining respect in his eyes as an honest, decent man who stood up for what he believed in and was passionate about his work – much like he was. He was intrigued by what he _didn't_ know about Fin, and he longed to find out. He also wanted to know more about his mother, as well as his paternal grandparents. He realized nothing at all about them….

But another, more realistic side of him winced at the idea of being hounded constantly by the press, never having a moment's peace from the day he took the job until his father was hopefully elected. He and Justin would be subjected to enormous scrutiny, their lives dissected bit by bit with nothing left unsaid or unrevealed. Did he want to deal with that? Justin had already been through way too much in his relatively young life – an assault that almost cost him his life, rejection by his asshole of a father, and a bombing that could have killed him as well. His brave, courageous partner had finally put all that behind him and was finally coming into his own as a successful, respected artist; was it fair to drag him through the mud along with him? Even though he was pissed off presently at Justin for conspiring with his blond counterpart to try and persuade him to take this job, he still didn't want the man he loved being subjected to glaring, intrusive media coverage. He recalled clearly how spooked Justin had been for months after his bashing and how he had felt so terrified just to be in the midst of large crowds; would this cause some sort of relapse? There were so many variables involved in this decision it made his head almost spin.

He realized with a start that his father was still silently staring at him, wanting an answer. He sighed softly as he told him, "All right. I'll think about it and get back to you. But I'm NOT making any promises, Fin, you understand?"

Fin nodded his head, relieved that at least his son hadn't rejected the idea immediately. "Fair enough," he agreed as he walked over to the couch to retrieve his briefcase. He noticed Justin's 'persuasion sketchbook,' as he liked to refer to it, still lying on the other end of the couch. "Want me to leave that?" he asked Brian.

His son twisted his mouth in amusement. "Yeah," he told him. "Leave it. It'll come in handy as evidence."

Fin grinned at him as he snapped his briefcase closed and nodded. "Just remember what I said, okay? I'm sure he realizes you'll make up your own mind. Don't punish him for wanting to help out Tony; like I said, my partner can be a very persuasive little fucker."

Brian snorted. "Yeah….I know the type well. Don't worry, though…..he'll still get punished all right," Brian told him with a sort of sinister gleam in his eye. "But I think it might be the kind _both_ of us will benefit from."

His father blushed, convinced he knew precisely what sort of 'punishment' his son had in mind; he was relieved that at least Brian really wasn't that upset with Justin evidently. Reassured, he picked up his briefcase and turned to go. "I'll be waiting to hear from you, Brian," he told his son. "You know what I hope you'll decide, but I'll respect whatever decision you make." He walked over to the door to leave, but just before he opened the door, he turned to add, "You wouldn't be my son if you were a pushover anyway."

Brian eyed his father thoughtfully as he watched him go. The man was still a mystery to him, but he had to admit; the two of them seemed more alike than different. Was it a good idea though, at least figuratively, to get in bed with his own father? Would working too closely together actually hinder any deeper relationship, rather than nurture it?

"Fuck," he muttered; his thoughts in a whirl of confusion. He had never had this much difficulty making up his mind before, at least unless you counted the day he finally told Justin just how he had felt about him. Of course the only bomb involved this time was a time bomb – he knew he couldn't leave his father out on a limb for long. What he would ultimately decide, however, was still very much up in the air.

Sighing, he walked over to turn his laptop off and place it in his briefcase. Closing it shut, he reached for his car keys. He knew he was going to need a second opinion; and besides, there was a certain 'sentence' he needed to hand out to someone for being impudent. He smirked. "I hope you take it like a man, Sunshine," he quipped with a soft chuckle as he left his office to tell Cynthia he was gone for the day.

* * *

_Forty-Five Minutes Later _

Brian pressed the remote on his car's visor to activate the wrought-iron security gate that had been installed yesterday; it had cost him a fucking fortune to have the entire perimeter of Britin wired for intruders and have cameras installed throughout the grounds, but it was worth it to him to make sure he – and especially Justin – were protected and provided the privacy they deserved while they were home.

As he drove up the long, curved driveway to their home, the irony of having the outrageously-expensive security in place now wasn't lost on him; if Fin _did_ manage to talk him into running his campaign, he would be doubly relieved that all the intricate components of his security system were already firmly in place. First, though, he had to have a little chat with a certain co-conspirator before he made up his mind, not only to bounce the pros and cons off his talented little husband artiste, but to extract a little 'punishment' from him for not discussing the issue beforehand.

He pushed the remote once more to enter the garage and park the 'Vette inside. As the heavy aluminum door swung shut behind him, he emerged from the car to go in search of Justin. Once he was inside the house, the immediate kitchen area was noticeably quiet, but he wasn't surprised. Normally when he was gone, Justin would typically be upstairs in his studio or perhaps out back somewhere, either by the pool or near the stables, depending upon his mood for where and what he wanted to sketch, and also on whether he was preparing something for dinner as he frequently liked to do. Brian had never really understood his fascination for cooking homemade meals, but Justin seemed to derive a great deal of accomplishment and satisfaction from it and he was a surprisingly good cook, so Brian was more than willing to humor him.

Since he was a couple of hours earlier than he normally would be, he went in search of the blond, first sliding open the back door from the kitchen to the outside to see if Justin was there but finding no sign of him. Twisting his tie to loosen it, he returned to the kitchen to place his briefcase down on the planning desk nearby before walking down the hallway to the mahogany, curved staircase to search the rest of the house.

A few minutes later, he reached the uppermost floor and entered Justin's sun-drenched studio. He normally would call out for his husband, but he chose this time to get the upper hand and surprise him; he was still a bit peeved over his conspiratorial mission with a certain _other_ blond and wanted to have a stern talk with him, although he knew deep down he could never stay angry with Justin for long. The little twat always _did_ have a unique ability to mollify him, unlike everyone else, except perhaps his son.

Disappointed he wasn't over near the southern window where he always liked to paint the best, Brian walked over to it and peered down into the backyard where he had a view of the stables and nearby fields. He didn't see Justin there, either. "Where _are_ you, Sunshine?" he asked softly, puzzled.

Descending the steps once more, he had reached the second-floor landing where their master bedroom and guest bedrooms were located and was about to call out for him as a last resort when he thought he heard a noise coming from down the hall. Quietly walking toward the source of the noise, he approached the nearest bedroom next to their master suite and poked his head in the door. Despite his irritation, he couldn't help smiling as he finally found his husband wearing a pensive look on his face as he often did when he was thinking about a project. Justin was wearing jeans and a long-sleeved, maroon-colored shirt with the sleeves pushed up and had one of his ever-present sketchpads in his hand, much like the one he had so creatively used earlier today; in between his eyes darting from the room and then back to the paper, he was studiously drawing something on the pad. The room Justin was working in wasn't quite as grand or spacious as their suite, which had a large sitting area near the bay windows and a huge adjoining bathroom, but it was still bright and airy, courtesy of a trio of floor-to-ceiling windows which were able to let in the afternoon light. Being on the second floor, there was really no need for curtains to afford privacy, and, besides, except for a couple of overstuffed, antique Elizabethan chairs that had been left over from the previous tenants, there wasn't any need for isolation from prying eyes – there was really nothing to see except for a wide open, unfurnished space.

He and Justin had decided when they moved into Britin to take their time working on redecorating the house, choosing to concentrate on the areas they would really utilize, such as the kitchen, living room, study, master bedroom and a couple of guest bedrooms on the opposite side of the floor; this was one of the rooms that had been pushed aside until they had the time and inclination to finish it. It appeared that Justin was drawing some preliminary ideas for furnishing the room; it surprised Brian, however, because he had always been under the impression they would work on them together.

He quietly walked into the room unbeknownst to his husband, whose back was angled away from the door. Smirking a little, he was within a couple feet of the blond when he loudly stated, "THERE you are!"

He chuckled as Justin jumped at least a couple of feet in startled shock as he whirled around, his eyes flashing. "Shit, Brian! You scared the fucking _daylights_ of me!" Brian noticed curiously that Justin quickly flipped his sketchbook closed as if he didn't want him to see what he was doing; that was highly unusual – normally Justin couldn't wait to show him what he was working on.

The blond glared at him in annoyance, trying hard to not project the nervousness he was feeling; he didn't want Brian to see what he had been sketching – at least not yet. He didn't know when the right time would be to broach the subject of what he was working on, but by the somewhat perturbed look on his husband's face he had a good idea that now wasn't it; he wasn't sure _when_ the right time would be, anyway, not sure what his reaction would be. He chose instead to take the offensive. "What are you doing home so early?" he asked as he surreptitiously placed his sketchbook down on one of the overstuffed chairs. "It can't be later than 2."

Forgetting the sketchbook temporarily, Brian advised him, "1:45."

Justin rubbed his charcoal-covered hands over his jeans. "1:45, then. So what are you doing home?" Brian never did adhere to a regimented schedule, but more times than not, he ran late rather than early; this was highly unlike him.

"Have a seat, Mr. Taylor," Brian said almost formally as he took the empty chair opposite him.

_Uh, oh_. _I know that tone….._ Justin quietly placed his sketchpad down on the floor next to the nearby chair facing the one Brian was sitting in and sat down. "It's Taylor-Kinney," he couldn't help correcting his husband with an impertinent smile; he figured he would never tire of saying that name. In a way, he was still trying to get used to it, but he liked his new name – _a lot_. He noticed Brian trying unsuccessfully to stifle a small smile at his statement before he answered.

"Okay, then…Taylor-Kinney_ Twat_." He eyed the mischievous blue eyes of his lover, who snorted back at him, before he advised him sternly, "I had an interesting visit this morning at work."

"You did?" Justin clasped his hands a little nervously, wondering why Brian was looking so serious. He soon found out when Brian told him who it was.

"Yeah…..It was Fin. Want to guess what he wanted to see me about?"

Justin averted his eyes downward. _Busted…._ "Uh….he wanted the name of your tailor?" he supplied helpfully as he finally raised his eyes to peer into the hazel ones.

Brian curled his lips under. "No….he already made good _use_ of my _Taylor_," he replied as he eyed Justin intently; he noticed just the hint of a flushed pink appear on the beautiful face as he realized that Justin knew exactly what he had meant by _Taylor_. He sighed, not trying to keep up the pretense any longer as he said softly, "Justin, why didn't you talk to me about this first? I didn't appreciate being hit by a surprise with that. And by the way, just when did you have _time_ to work on that interesting masterpiece?"

Justin blushed in embarrassment. "Tony came out to visit me yesterday while you were at work and asked me to help with the artwork."

"Uh, huh….." Brian shook his head. "Remind me not to let you two alone ever again – it must be a blond thing or something."

Justin smirked. "We can't help it if father and son have good taste."

Brian rolled his eyes. "Don't try to change the subject, Sunshine. You know I don't like being caught with my pants down - at least not like this."

Justin grinned as he licked his lips. "I'm glad you clarified that." He sobered, though, as he said sincerely, "I'm sorry, Brian. But he was very persuasive – he _is_ an attorney, you know."

"Yeah….apparently a real good one." He sighed. "I know you were only trying to help, but this is something I need to decide for myself. Do you realize how much disruption we'll have in our _own_ lives if I agree to do this? Are you sure you're willing to subject yourself to that? You _do_ remember what happened right after the prom."

Justin flinched slightly at the mention of what should have been one of the happiest times of his life, at least that's what Daphne had always told him. For what must have been the thousandth time, he desperately wished he could remember, but all he could recall was the horrible aftermath and what Hobbes had done to him. It had taken him months to get over not only the assault but to undergo physical therapy to get back to a semblance of what he had been like before. Even now, his hand ached if he overused it too much; it wasn't nearly as bad as before, but it still happened. And the psychological trauma; if Brian hadn't been there to hold him up and support him, he's not sure he would have ever recovered from that. Even now, when he was out on a busy street or in the midst of a wall-to-wall crowd at an art showing, he could still feel the wisps of terror inside him, even though he knew it was unsubstantiated. Maybe, then, Brian had a point; could he handle what would no doubt be constant attention toward them as well as Fin? Was he prepared to do that? He considered that for a few moments before deciding that yes, if it was what Brian wanted and if it would bring him closer to his father, it would be worth it.

He let out a heavy breath as he gazed at the man he loved. "I remember very well, Brian," he said just a little stiffly. "But that was a long time ago. I told Tony yesterday that I would help him with the sketches, but the ultimate decision would be up to you. I'll abide by whatever you decide; that was my intention all along. I won't lie to you, though; if it would help you to learn more about Fin, I think it might be a good thing."

Brian rubbed his hand over his face in indecision; he had thought about the pros and cons of doing it ever since his father had first broached him with the idea earlier today; each time he tried to analyze it, though, he always wound up unable to make a firm choice. "I…..I don't know what to do, Justin," he finally told his husband as he stared into his familiar eyes. "I'm…..torn between wanting to stay the hell away as far as possible and being intrigued by the idea of overseeing the largest advertising campaign of my career. I've thought about nothing else since Fin brought it up, and I _still_ don't know what to do."

Justin reached over to take Brian's hand; their fingers linked together as he whispered, "You have good instincts, Brian. I know you'll do the right thing."

Brian curled his fingers around the slender hand as he advised, "That's just it; this time I have no fucking idea _what_ the _right thing _is." He sighed. "I told Fin I'd think it over and get back to him; I know he needs an answer right away; there's less than six months to go before the election, and he needs to get a move on if he's going to have any chance of winning."

Justin grinned. "Spoken like a true campaign manager." He had meant what he said – he would support Brian no matter what he chose – but he had a feeling his husband was leaning one particular way already, despite his protestations that he hadn't decided. He knew what a lure it was for Brian to take on a challenge, and he had a good feeling this one was going to be a doozy.

Brian gave him a look that said _don't go there_ as he stood up and pulled Justin to his feet, sliding his hands around the slim waist to imprison his captive as Justin gazed at him innocently. "Well, I'm not going to make any decision hastily," he told him, his lips curled under in that little-boy-way that drove Justin crazy. A type of evil glint appeared in his eyes as he stated solemnly, "Besides, I know someone who deserves to be punished for going behind my back."

To his consternation – but not his surprise – Justin didn't appear nervous or apprehensive at all regarding his statement; in fact, he seemed quite amused as he smirked back at him. "Is that a promise?" he asked, licking his lips in anticipation as he wound his own arms around Brian's back and pulled him closer. "I'm scared." he whispered, his eyes twinkling.

Brian rolled his eyes; he knew his attempt to be firm with his husband was going to last probably all of a few seconds; he wasn't sure if it had been even _that_ long before he had promptly caved in once more, just like usual. "Yes," he told him huskily. "I think we'll start out with a good spanking – or shall I say whipping? And then we'll follow it up with some good, old-fashioned _hard_ labor until I have you screaming for mercy."

Justin's grin spread wider as his hands crept lower to settle on Brian's ass cheeks. He gave them a possessive squeeze before he murmured, "Ooh….I'm a slut for punishment. I can't wait; let's go."

Brian chuckled as he shook his head at Justin's enthusiasm, wondering how this man had managed to get him so securely wrapped around his little finger. But there was no turning back – he knew this man would have possession of his heart for the rest of his life. He leaned down to ravage the willing, soft lips as their mouths instinctively opened up to taste each other. He heard a soft sigh as they pulled back several seconds later. He quickly flipped Justin around to give him a sharp smack on his butt to get a move on as Justin squeaked in response. "There's your first round, you little shit," he told him huskily as he gave him a little shove, holding onto one hand possessively so he wouldn't run off. "Now get going – you've got a lot of sucking up to do."

"Ooh…I like it when you talk dirty," Justin answered as he laughed softly. "I'd _love_ to do some sucking up to you – all afternoon."

Brian pulled him hard against his chest; he knew Justin could feel his _own_ response to that sexy tone of voice as he leaned down and nipped at the fleshy part of Justin's earlobe, feeling the lithe body shiver under his grasp. "Don't worry," he told him seductively. "You'll be doing a _lot _of 'sucking up' before I get done with _YOU_, little boy."

"I'll be counting on it," Justin managed to sputter out breathlessly as Brian proceeded to walk the two of them out of the room together, the mysterious scrapbook still lying on the floor where it had been discarded, now long forgotten by both men for much more pleasurable pursuits…..


	11. Brian's Decision

_Next Morning – Britin_

Brian smiled down at his husband's untamed head of hair as the blond snored softly on his chest; he was so thankful that Justin had elected to keep it long. His golden hair was the softest of any man's he had ever felt, and there was just something about running his fingers through that mop of hair that always turned him on. In fact, he was itching at the moment to do just that but held back, not wanting to wake his husband up any sooner than necessary.

He and Justin had gone to sleep late, having spent several hours discussing the pros and cons of him working with his father on his gubernatorial campaign; of course, their discourse had been done in between Justin 'making amends' for conspiring with Fin's partner, Tony, to help influence his decision, so Brian found it rather easy to forgive his husband's secrecy. He leaned down to bestow a soft kiss on the top of Justin's head as he pulled the blond closer to him; he could feel the slender body stir slightly in his sleep as he held him in his arms, but he didn't awake. Justin always_ was_ a sound sleeper, but perhaps this time it had more to do with how worn out he was at the moment…

He sighed as he stared up at the ceiling while his thumb slowly rubbed across Justin's shoulder. He still wasn't sure what to do about Fin's offer; even though he hadn't quite come out and said it, he knew what Justin wanted him to do – he was clearly convinced that it would be a good way for him and his father to grow closer together. Was it worth their loss of privacy, though? And could Cynthia and Ted, his most trusted employees, handle Kinnetik's more important and influential clients during what would no doubt be numerous and lengthy absences during the upcoming months? Those would be his biggest concerns at the moment…Then again, perhaps the publicity that would be generated as a result of him being prominently featured as his father's campaign manager would be _good_ for his OWN agency as well…

"What are you thinking about?" he suddenly heard Justin whisper as a pair of blue eyes opened and stared up into his pensive face. _Little shit_ – _never could get away with anything around him…_

He smirked; how was it that Justin could almost _hear_ him think, even without saying anything? "I thought I had worn you out, Mr. Taylor-Kinney," he murmured as Justin grinned. "Apparently your stamina is as good as ever."

"Have to keep up with _you_," Justin told him softly with a smile. "You should be asleep, too, but your _thinking_ woke me up; and you still didn't answer my question. What's on your mind? As if I didn't know." It really was a moot question – there could only be one answer to that. Fin's offer to Brian was pretty much all they had talked about since he had come home yesterday afternoon. "You still aren't sure what to do, are you?'

Brian continued to idly caress Justin's upper arm as his husband splayed his palm across his chest and gazed into his eyes inquisitively. "No," he admitted. "Although I guess I'm leaning toward doing it; the idea of overseeing such a big promotional campaign is probably too hard for me to resist." He caught just the wisp of a knowing grin on Justin's face as he stared wryly down at him. "And don't look so smug or I'll have to wipe that smile off your face."

"Ooh… I'd like to see you try," Justin responded impudently; Brian recognized it as the same tone of voice a certain young twink had used on him several years ago when he had threatened to spank him on the couch after he been hired as a go-go dancer, and it had the same effect on him now that it did then. It quickly made him hard just thinking about the possibilities. How Justin managed to do that when no one else could was still a mystery to him, but he had no objection to it taking the rest of their lives for him to discover the reason why… Perhaps it was because from the first day they had met, Justin had never been able to take no for an answer or back down from a challenge, even though he should have been scared shitless being up against someone like him. He probably _had_ been at first, but he had a way of never letting it show. Justin had displayed the same type of impertinence from Day One, when he had showered with him after having first shown him the 'pleasures of the flesh,' and he had threatened to spank him back then, too; his sauciness and smart-alecky response had made him horny as hell back then, too, just like it was doing now…

Justin squeaked that adorable sound he always made when Brian surprised him as he quickly found himself flat on his back with his husband's long, lean frame draped over him like a warm, velvety glove; the smile he couldn't help flashing at Brian told the brunet he had gotten exactly what he was hoping for, though, and he noticed Brian couldn't help rolling his eyes back at him in return. "You asked for it," Brian warned him, his eyes twinkling as he leaned in as if he were about to give him a kiss to wipe the aforementioned smile from his face.

Justin's licked his lips in anticipation just before he felt Brian's hands at his waist and a sense of sudden foreboding overcame him. "Brian, don't you dare…" He warned, just before he was attacked.

Justin squirmed uncontrollably and began to laugh as Brian curled his lips under mischievously and began to furiously torment Justin with his long-fingered hands, right where he was the most ticklish.

"Stop it, you asshole!" Justin cried out in between fits of laughter. Brian decided he rather liked this soft, writhing mass of warmth trapped beneath him; of course, each time Justin moved hiscock rubbed against his own dick and made him even hornier with desire for him. "No fair! I thought you were going to _kiss_ me, not tickle me to death!"

Brian grinned as he finally stopped his torture and trapped Justin's hands with his own on either side of his body; Justin's face was pink and flushed, and he was mesmerized as always by the blue eyes staring into his. "Just getting ready for the dirty world of politics, _husband_," he drawled teasingly as he slowly leaned in. "Rule No 1: Always leave them guessing." He gazed into Justin's eyes for a few seconds before finally bestowing a passionate, long-awaited kiss on the soft, lush lips as he heard Justin sigh in response; he wasn't sure if the blond was reacting to the kiss or more to his use of the word _husband,_ which he knew always turned him on for some reason, but it really didn't matter…..

"I knew you would do it," Justin whispered breathlessly several seconds later as they finally parted, a look of righteous haughtiness on his face. "I know you – It was too challenging an opportunity for you to pass up." He struggled to string a coherent sentence together as Brian began to nuzzle his neck with his lips while he ground his cock against his and he gasped in response at the sensual overload. "You're…You're never one to… Back down from a fight."

He shivered as he felt Brian's breath blowing on his skin as the brunet whispered, "What about you? You wanna see just how good I am in a fight, Sunshine? You want to demonstrate on me with some of those Pink Posse skills you learned? You know that makes me fucking hot." He lifted his eyes to stare into Justin's darkened ones, the desire and lust practically pouring out of them as he issued his challenge. "Show me what you got."

Justin licked his lips as he stared into Brian's dilated, almost coal-black eyes; it wasn't often that Brian wanted to play rough with him like he did right now, but when he did, _whew, boy_. It had been a long time since he had been naïve and stupid enough to believe he and the Pink Posse could save the world, but he still remembered a lot of the defensive skills that Cody had taught him, as well as that one time when he and Brian had come to mock blows with each other at the loft. That had led to some of the hottest sex they had ever had. Playing silently into his husband's fantasy, then, he began to struggle in Brian's hold, using his chest and his legs to try and gain some superiority, which merely made Brian squeeze his wrists even tighter in control as he lay halfway on top of him; he could feel Brian's steel-hard cock pressed between their bellies and his own cock began to throb in a desperate plea for release of its own as he continued to writhe under the heavier man's imprisonment and thrash about in an attempt to break loose.

Brian smiled dangerously, his own cock begging for some much-needed TLC of its own as he splayed his legs on either side of Justin's hips to hold him in place. "You'll have to do better than that, Sunshine," he whispered huskily. "Or maybe I'll have to go look somewhere else for more of an equal." He chuckled softly. "I think someone's getting a little _rusty; _has someone had one too many cherry turnovers lately?" he asked mockingly.

Justin knew Brian was merely toying with him; they had been monogamous for a long time now and he would never question his love for him. Instead of the icy glare he figured Brian was expecting, he smiled up at his husband sweetly and shrugged as if he didn't care and was going to capitulate just before his adrenalin kicked in and he managed to raise his legs slightly enough under Brian to jab him right in the balls to throw him off course; a few seconds later a surprised Brian found _himself_ lying underneath Justin's body as the blond sat up on his lean, bronzed torso and smiled down at him in triumph, his own hands capturing the larger ones as he linked their fingers together on his chest. "How was that?" he asked innocently as he leaned down from his vantage point and tugged sharply at Brian's left nipple with his teeth before giving it a little painful twist; he could feel his husband moving beneath him in response as a little gasp left his mouth, and he knew Brian's cock had to be unbearably hard by now. The bulbous head was purplish and leaking profusely as he gazed down at it and smiled smugly, deriving great pleasure at his power over this magnificent man. "I learned from the master, remember?" he whispered as he wriggled his ass back and forth over Brian's groin as Brian predictably groaned in response, frustrated as hell that they hadn't moved onto fucking yet. Just for good measure, he made sure his cock brushed against Brian's stomach as he continued to stare into the brunet's eyes with a distinctive look of superiority on his face, but truth be told, he was as anxious to get on with it as Brian was; his husband's cock wasn't the _only_ one that needed some urgent attention.

"You realize I could throw your hot little ass right off this bed, don't you?" Brian warned him as Justin merely stared down at him nonchalantly; _little fucker_… Of course, both of them knew he had no intention of doing that – he had much more _pleasurable_ things in mind to do with Justin's ass, and besides, the last thing he wanted to do was possibly bruise something so valuable – but it still bothered him sometimes that Justin could read him so well. He squeezed Justin's hands in silent reminder of just who was the stronger of the two – at least physically; mentally, though, he wasn't quite so sure…

"Oh, I realize that," Justin told him assuredly. "But I _also_ know you won't do that; you wouldn't want to _damage the merchandise_." He licked his lips in glee as Brian glared at him.

Before he could say anything further, however, he found himself paying for his smug self-confidence as he quickly found their positions reversed once more and his body slammed back onto the mattress face up, the wind knocked out of him; Brian had imprisoned him between his two long, muscular legs and had been able to roll them over before he could take more than a couple of quick, heart-stopping breaths in realization.

Their hands were still linked tightly together as Brian raised himself up on his elbows and whispered, "I hate to disappoint you, Sunshine, but as fucking hot as your ass is, it's not quite up there with Betty Grable's legs."

Justin frowned at the unexpectedly odd comment. "Huh?"

Brian huffed in disgust. "That's what I get for falling in love with a twink that knows nothing about classic movie stars." He leaned down to lick a path from Justin's sternum up to his neck before whispering in his ear, "Good thing you're so good in bed; that sort of makes up for it." Brian leaned back to rise up on his knees, his cock throbbing with neglect as Justin obediently raised his legs to lock them securely around Brian's back – his pulse was racing in anticipation as it always did when he was with this gorgeous, testosterone-laden god of a man; he couldn't wait another second longer, either – to hell with foreplay and playing games…

He growled impatiently, "Fuck me and I'll _remind _you, damn it!" as he used his feet to pull Brian even closer.

Brian chuckled at his fiery partner. "Good idea," he replied in that velvety, seductive voice that simply made Justin even _more_ impatient. It was times like this when Brian was inordinately grateful that they didn't have to invest in condom stock any more as he reached over to the nearby nightstand and retrieved a small tube of lube he always had at the ready; he and Justin had recently discovered a certain brand that not only heated up on contact but also sensitized the nerve fibers around Justin's hole even more, and ever since then it had made their lovemaking even more fantastic. He saw the tip of Justin's tongue snake out like it always did just before they fucked as he quickly flipped the top open and spread some of the clear gel onto his fingers and on his cock, feeling the warmth from the lube quickly spreading through his skin. He could feel his own pulse beginning to race as he lined his cock up with the puckered, twitching surface and slowly pushed in, hearing the satisfied hiss of pain/pleasure in response as he stared into the bewitching blue eyes of his husband. No matter how many times he and Justin made love, he knew he would never get enough of this man, he thought, as Justin placed a hand on his thigh in encouragement and he pushed in harder, deeper.

The gel quickly performed its magic as Brian felt like his body was on fire while he smoothly slid even deeper into the tight crevice; through his passion and his body's heightened response he could hear Justin's moans and sighs in between his own grunts as he began to move in and out almost violently, his pace picking up speed as Justin began to arch off the bed to greet his movements. It was moments like this when he could imagine the two of them as one – that was how perfectly synchronized they were by now to each other's bodies as he continued to ram in and out of his husband's hole, the sounds of their lovemaking supplemented only by the slap of his body against the smaller frame.

Justin blinked as he felt the sweat trickling into his eyes but he couldn't take his gaze off Brian. When Brian was in full ecstasy-driven mode like he was now, he was absolutely captivating and he could never get enough of the way his husband's body stretched and undulated like some sleek, sexy cat as he fucked him. He watched as Brian arched backward, exposing all the muscular lines of his chest and the curve of his neck as he threw his head back and his mouth opened in silent, exquisite pleasure. Brian was never quite as vocal as HE was while they were fucking, but perhaps he didn't have to be; Brian's extreme satisfaction was written all over his handsome, sweaty face and he found himself extremely pleased as well as proud that he was the one having that effect on him… Or, in the words of his best friend, _supercilious… _

He smiled slightly up at Brian in recollection; how far the two of them had come since Daphne had issued that comment. Somehow, though, he had a suspicion that neither one of them would have ever guessed that despite his falling in love with Brian at first sight, he would one day actually be _married_ to him…

"What are you smiling about?" Brian breathlessly asked him as he grasped Justin's shoulders tightly and continued to ram into him, his body swaying sensually like some unending ocean wave as he drove in and out expertly. Justin was completely mesmerized by his fluidity and elegance, almost like some sexy male ballet dancer…

Justin held onto Brian's muscular biceps for dear life as his husband continued to thrust in and out; he managed to gasp out as Brian hit his prostate, "Just," he grunted with a gasp…"thinking," another grunt…"how fucking much"…he cried out loudly as Brian rammed back in and hit his sweet spot again…"Ahhh!"… "I _love_ you!" The heat being generated by the lubricant and merely the friction of Brian's dick thrusting in and out of him was almost too much to bear; he could feel his body tightening, squeezing around Brian's pulsing, throbbing cock, feeling every vein of the silky hot skin as his lover expertly moved in and out, feeling almost out of control now as his body temperature rose dramatically with each hit. The sweat was literally pouring from his forehead now as Brian arched back and stiffened before he cried out loudly and Justin felt the hot, molten liquid rushing inside him.

The sensation of a part of Brian pouring into him made his body react almost instantly. "God!" he cried out in excruciating reaction as his entire body tensed and he, too, exploded in climax, his sticky cum rushing out onto their sweaty bodies.

As Brian collapsed on top of him and he dropped his legs heavily to the side of his husband, he could feel both their hearts beating furiously as if they would explode; his lungs threatened to burst from the breaths they were frantically trying to collect as his arms held onto the hot, sweat-soaked back of his husband as they lay there together. Brian's head was buried in the crook between his neck and his head, just like it had been that night so long ago when they had had to say goodbye; he forcefully pushed that morose thought aside now, though, because he knew that was long ago and firmly in the past and they would never have to go through such a sad time again. He chose, instead, to slowly stroke Brian's back, taking reassurance and comfort in the strong muscles under his touch. He could feel Brian's rapid heartbeat and heaving breaths above him and his husband's hands lightly stroking his upper arms for several seconds before Brian finally raised his head high enough to gaze into his eyes. The tender smile he received made his heart do a flip flop as Brian whispered, "That…was fucking hot, Sunshine. Maybe we _should_ insure that ass after all."

Justin blushed at the tone of Brian's admiring voice. He still had no idea who Betty Grable was or what was so famous about her legs, but at that moment he didn't give a fuck. "Don't worry," he whispered with a smile of his own. "I promise to take good care of it as long as I get _this_ treatment for it."

Brian gently wiped some sweaty hair from Justin's forehead as he curled his lips under. "Count on it," he huskily responded as his breathing slowly returned to normal. He gazed a few more seconds into Justin's eyes before he leaned down to give him a short but passionate kiss. Sighing, he advised, "I guess if I'm about to hand the reins of my baby over to Theodore and Cynthia, though, I'd better make an appearance to notify them." He gave Justin one more peck on the lips before he reluctantly pushed himself up and off his husband's smaller body; he heard Justin sigh in disappointment over their separation. Since they had started making love bareback, Justin was even _more_ frustrated when he pulled out. He would have liked nothing better than for him and Justin to promptly go back to sleep with him still firmly embedded in his husband's ass for as long as possible, but it was getting late already and he had a lot to do today. First was the stop at Kinnetik… And then a visit to his father's office in Harrisburg to notify him of his decision; just the travel back and forth between here and there would be an almost all-day thing at this relatively late hour.

He slowly twisted around to sit on the edge of the bed before he rose to stand, placing his hands on his waist as he bent backward to relieve some of the stiffness there. He turned around to face Justin, who was grinning smugly back at him. _Little shit_… He was likely to be sore for a day or two thanks to the workout they just undertook, but at least he had the satisfaction of knowing that Justin would probably be even sorer. "I'm going to go take a shower," he told the blond. "Care to join me, Sunshine?"

Justin grinned from his place on the bed, one hand lying across his sweaty brow. "As tempting as that sounds, Brian, I don't think that would be wise under the circumstances, do you? I thought you were running late."

Brian smirked. "Yeah… You have a point – I would just get sticky and have to shower even longer." He stood there for a few seconds, drinking in the sight of his beautiful husband before he gave him a lopsided smile and a wink before turning to head toward the bathroom.

Justin sighed in contentment; he worried a little about what might happen now that Brian had finally decided to help Fin, but he was glad that he had decided to accept his offer. Whatever temporary nuisances and inconveniences that might be produced during the campaign would be more than offset by Brian and Fin hopefully growing closer together, and if Brian were successful, he was confident that Pennsylvania would have a forceful, innovative and effective governor as a result. As he heard the water running in the shower, he smiled; he couldn't imagine life being any better than it was right now.

Well, except for one thing. He turned his head to the side toward their dresser to gaze at the photo of Brian cradling Gus in his arms. It had been taken shortly after Gus had been born, and from the first moment Justin had observed the two of them together, he knew Brian would fall hopelessly in love with his son and he had been right. Brian had even surpassed his expectations, becoming an engaged, active parent in Gus' life; it was clear that the little boy was his pride and joy, his treasure and a confirmation of what he had done right in his life. It also was a big _fuck you_ to the man who was previously thought of as his husband's father. Yes, Brian was a wonderful parent to Gus, but would it be possible for lightning to strike twice, though? Would Brian ever want _another_ child to love and nurture? Justin knew that HE did, but he would never proceed with something as life-altering as that without his husband's approval and endorsement first.

As he pondered that question, he realized suddenly that he had left his sketchbook down the hall in one of the spare guestrooms. He was glad Brian hadn't noticed his evasiveness regarding what he had been doing in there; normally his husband didn't let him get away with anything, but fortunately for him, Brian had decided he had something else on his mind at the time. He thought about getting up and trekking quietly down to the other room to retrieve it and safely stow it somewhere, but he figured Brian would be too caught up in getting ready to go into work to have time to even think about it, so he chose to remain softly cocooned in bed and relish the warm and scent of the man he loved for just a little longer. He reached to pull Brian's pillow closer to his nose and inhaled the wonderful, familiar fragrance of Brian's expensive aftershave and shampoo. Sighing a little in disappointment over not being able to talk to Brian, he bowed to reality, knowing that eventually the two of them would have to talk about one of his most fervent wishes, but realizing there was too much else going on to broach the topic now.

He heard Brian turning the shower off and the opening of the heavy, glass door followed a few seconds later by the sound of Brian's blow dryer. Deciding to get out of bed himself and take his own shower, Justin rose to stand next to the bed for a moment to get his bearings before trekking over to the master bathroom, pausing in the doorway to 'admire the view' of his husband's taut and tanned ass. He may have the bubble butt in the family, he thought, but Brian's ass was a thing of beauty, too. He looked up to meet Brian's eyes in the mirror and see him smirk as he blushed at being caught so openly ogling him from behind.

"Ah….still in awe of my ass, are you?" he drawled in amusement as he turned to face Justin and walked over to stand next to him. He looked down to Justin's cock as his husband's face reddened in acknowledgement of his arousal.

Justin thought Brian looked inordinately proud of himself as he shrugged and said noncommittally, "Maybe a little."

Brian snorted as he reached down to grasp Justin's quickly-hardening shaft. "Something else tells me differently." He chuckled softly as Justin groaned at the talented skill of Brian's hand. "Want me to take care of that _not-so-little_ problem?"

Justin sighed in defeat, knowing he was as easy to read as a 1st grade book when it came to this man. "If you have time," he told him with a somewhat sheepish smile. "It would be much more preferable to jacking off."

Brian smiled as he leaned down to give Justin a deep kiss, his hand still working itself up and down Justin's cock as the blond gasped in his mouth. As they parted, he slowly lowered his body until he could take the thick, dark pink organ all the way to the back of his throat; several seconds later, he was licking his lips as Justin shot his cum into his mouth and he swallowed every drop.

He held onto Justin's legs to steady him as he slowly rose to stand. "They always say you should have a nutritious breakfast to start your day," he whispered with a smile as Justin smacked him on the ass in reply and he chuckled. "But I really do have to go get dressed now, Sunshine – shower's all yours." He gave Justin one more peck on his lips before he smiled and turned to go. "I'll be home as soon as I can," he told him as he walked back into their bedroom. "Not sure what time – depends on how long it takes me to get in to see the busy politician."

Justin nodded as he called out to him, "Yeah… Better make sure you take the attack dog with you to wade through the press corps." He heard Brian laugh softly and say, "I'll do that," before he turned to open the shower door and turn it on.

Several minutes later when he finished and stepped out, he knew Brian was gone; even if the room hadn't been so silent, it was almost as if they shared this intangible connection between them and he could almost tell just by the feel of the room. He knew that was silly hogwash, but he seemed to have developed almost an additional sense where his husband was concerned. _Brian radar_, he thought with a smile as he turned to begin getting dressed. He had a painting to resume upstairs that would no doubt keep him busy much of the day and make the hours go by faster, but he couldn't wait to find out how Brian's meeting with Fin went.

He smiled as he heard his cell phone ringing, hoping it was Brian calling for some reason as he walked over to locate it on the dresser. He picked it up, finding out it was actually from his co-conspirator instead. "Hey, Tony," he said into the phone.

"Hi, Justin. Is Brian there?"

Justin laughed. "You're so fucking transparent, Cassinelli; no, he's gone." His voice took on a tone sort of like a spy as he said, "We can talk openly… The coast is clear."

Tony chuckled from his location in the parking lot of the county courthouse building. "Good… Wouldn't want the phone to be tapped. I was just curious how it went yesterday after Brian got home. He didn't tan your ass, did he?"

Justin giggled. "Oh, he took it out of my ass, all right, but I'm not exactly complaining if you know what I mean." He rubbed his ass cheek in recollection as he couldn't help smiling. Nope – no complaints at all on _this_ end.

Tony huffed out a sigh of relief. "Good… I was worried he might really be angry that you were trying to influence his decision. Fin wasn't too happy that I had conspired with you on our little art project, either – although I think I managed to smooth things over with some good old-fashioned TLC."

Justin smiled. "Yeah… Like father, like son apparently; Brian wasn't very happy about it at first, either. But I managed to weasel my way out of it."

Tony chuckled. "Probably the same way that _I_ did from the sound of things. I think father and son speak the same language."

"Yeah," was the reply, "I'm sure you're right. Don't tell Fin, by the way, but Brian's going to pay him a visit this afternoon."

Tony's eyes widened at that revelation. "Are you saying what I _think_ you're saying?" he asked hopefully. He didn't know Brian very well yet, but from what he had read about him online and in the trade magazines, and from what Justin had told him about his partner's business expertise, his attorney's instincts continued to tell him that Brian would be superb at the job. His partner needed someone he could trust, and he felt that Brian at least would be honest with him if he fucked up along the way.

"Yeah," Justin told him. "I think he's agreed to do it. But don't tell Fin yet," he repeated. "I think that should be between Brian and his father. And besides, I guess Brian could still change his mind, although I don't think he will. The advertising part of him is just finding this whole challenge too intriguing to resist."

"I won't say anything," Tony assured him. "But personally I'm ecstatic about it. That position is so crucial to any campaign, and Brian's a natural for the job. I know Fin is just getting started in his run for Governor, but if Brian _does_ agree to do it, I think his chances will be improved dramatically. Have you heard who his opponent is, by the way?" Tony, of course, by virtue of being Fin's partner, was privy to the latest information and had spent a great deal of time researching the rather flamboyant businessman who had virtually come out of nowhere to announce his intention to run against Fin. He was probably as diametrically opposed to everything Fin stood for as he could be, which concerned him somewhat. Overall, the state was mainly conservative in nature, so he knew that even with Fin's stellar record as an effective state senator he still faced an uphill battle to be victorious in his quest to be governor.

"No," Justin told him as he pulled out one of the dresser drawers and retrieved a well-loved pair of worn jeans. He held the cell phone in the crook of his neck while he walked over to the bed and sat down to put them on. "Who is it?"

"His name's Turner – Richard Turner. Ever heard of him?"

Justin frowned as he finished pushing his legs through the jeans and stood up to pull them on. "No, doesn't ring a bell at all. What is his title?"

He thought he heard Tony snort as he answered, "How about Mr. Moneybags? He's not a politician – just some bigwig businessman with more money than you can shake a stick at. He must have friends in high places as the saying goes, because he's never held office in his life – just been the chairman for a bunch of boards of Fortune 500 companies. He's been very successful in what he's done, though, to say the least. Ever heard of Turner Transportation?"

Justin's eyes widened in recognition. "Yeah," he said glumly. "As a matter of fact, I have. Last time I noticed, that's the same trucking company my father used to have electronics delivered to his store."

"Last time you noticed?"

Justin huffed out an angry, hurt breath. "Yeah… I haven't spoken to him in a few years now." Even now, the thought of how his father had treated him and turned his back on him made his heart ache. Up until now, he had thought he had succeeded in putting his father out of his mind – at least except for his and Brian's wedding. The thought that his own father didn't want to be at his wedding – or have anything to do with him at all – had hurt like hell that day. It _still_ hurt, apparently, as he felt a lump form in his throat over mention of him.

"Justin?" Tony frowned, wondering why his friend had suddenly become so quiet. "Something wrong?"

Justin sighed as he swallowed hard. "No," he told Tony. "Nothing that I'm not already used to. When my father found out I was gay, he pretty much either said I had to live a lie about how who I was or I had to leave. I chose the latter option, and except for one time when I went to see him to ask if he would help pay for my tuition – which he refused to do – that was pretty much the last time I spoke to him. Unless you count the time he had my ass thrown in jail for picketing his store."

"What?" Tony asked, startled. "He had you arrested?"

Justin let out a derisive snort. "Yeah… What a dad, right? It was when the city was trying to pass Proposition 14 and he didn't like a group of us protesting his endorsement of it. I was arrested for trespassing," he told his friend in disgust. "Got bailed out right away by my mother, though." His voice softened as he remembered, "That was the last time I ever saw or heard from him again."

"Justin… I'm sorry."

The younger man shook his head. "Don't worry about it, Tony; that was in the past. I prefer to concentrate on my future with Brian and my career. I don't dwell on things I can't change; it's counterproductive." Inside, though, he couldn't lie to himself – it still hurt regardless. At least Brian was about to get to know _his_ father better now – that was more than he would ever have again with his _own_ sorry excuse of a father, though.

Tony nodded silently. Despite what Justin just told him, he could hear the pain in his voice; it had to hurt terribly having a father who didn't want anything to do with him simply because he couldn't understand his sexual orientation – something he was born with and couldn't change. Thank God when _he_ had come out at 15, his parents had been stunned and flummoxed initially, but once they had gotten over the shock, they had been very receptive. He couldn't imagine living without having his parents' love and support; he was convinced it had made the difference between him pursuing his dream to be an attorney and simply skating by in school. He had to give Justin credit, though; considering what he had endured recently, he had turned into a courageous, talented young man. It was just a shame his own father couldn't see that. "Well, just fuck him, Justin," he told the other man firmly. "You're right – he's not worth your time or effort. I say we concentrate instead on getting Fin elected the first gay governor of Pennsylvania. I hear they employ some top-notch gourmet cooks at the governor's mansion, by the way; I'll make sure that you and Brian are our very first dinner guests."

Justin laughed, which was just what Tony had been trying to accomplish. "_Now_ you're talking," Justin told him, the smile back in his voice. "I'll hold you to that." He knew he and Tony had that in common as well – they both loved food, maybe a little too much. At least they both had high metabolisms, though – as well as insatiable lovers to burn some of the calories off quickly…

"You've got my promise," Tony told him warmly, noticing his client pulling into the parking lot for the start of his trial. "Look, I've got to go – my client just arrived for his trial. I'll be waiting anxiously to talk to Fin when he gets home tonight," he added. "Keep your fingers crossed, Justin – I think father and son would be an unbeatable combination; and I think they may get an _added_ bonus, too."

"I hope so, Tony," Justin told him sincerely, knowing exactly what he was inferring to. As Tony said goodbye to him and he hung up, he fervently hoped that would be precisely the end result, even more so than Fin being victorious in his quest to be governor. Perhaps only then would some of the sting he still felt over his own father's rejection of him not hurt quite so much. With a sigh, he pulled out a paint-stained, long-sleeved tee shirt from the top dresser drawer and slipping it on, he walked out into the hallway and toward his studio where at least for a while he could forget such unpleasant memories.


	12. The Game Begins

_Mid-Afternoon, Harrisburg – Fin's Congressional Office _

"O'Connor," Fin answered as his cell phone rang and he flipped it open to answer it; he glanced at the caller I.D., wondering who was calling on his private line, but didn't recognize the number. To try and keep a modicum of privacy, he reserved this special ring on his phone for just a sprinkling of personal callers so he knew it wasn't one of the multitudes of colleagues, both Republican and Democrat, who were constantly vying for his attention. A little puzzled as to who it was, he waited for the caller to identify himself. He heart sped up just a little faster as he immediately recognized his son's voice.

"Fin, hey, it's Brian," his son said simply.

Fin smiled a little at the casual greeting, relieve that at least he and his son were on a first-name basis. "Hi, Brian," he said politely. "How are you?" He knew that was a pretty tame greeting to a son he had only recently became aware of, but he and Brian were still trying to feel their way around their somewhat unusual relationship so for now he chose to keep things fairly low-key, deciding it was safer that way.

"I'm good," Brian told him, getting right to the point. "Look, I'm out in the parking lot and I need for you to call your guard dogs off up there so I can talk to you in person. I don't want to discuss this over the phone."

"In the parking lot as in _here_ in the parking lot?" Fin answered, unable to hide surprise in his voice. If his son drove all the way out from Pittsburgh to his office, then it must be pretty important. He tried not to get his hopes up that it was what he wanted it to be as he said, "I'll call the concierge desk downstairs and let them know it's okay to let you come up," he told his son.

"Okay – I'll be up shortly," Brian responded as he flipped his phone shut. Knowing his and Justin's privacy was about to fly out the window, he sat there in silence for a moment contemplating what he was about to do before opening the 'Vette's door and sliding out; he had already made up his mind and he wasn't going to back out now – he might as well get it over with. A few minutes later, he found himself on the elevator on his way up to his father's private office suite on the fourth floor. He let out an anxious breath, unaccustomed to feeling so awkward. In the course of his business, he had met hundreds of influential business contacts, rivals, and media without any feeling of insecurity or doubt. So why were his palms sweating and his heart racing _this _time? Of course, he already knew the answer to that question: every time he encountered this man, it always made him a little anxious. He almost felt like a scared, little boy trying his best to please a dominant, powerful father. Well, he had that _half_ right – Fin _was_ influential and assertive in his own right, but he certainly was NOT a little boy any more. He sighed as the bell sounded, signaling he was reaching his father's office floor. _Buck up, Kinney_, he chided himself. _You're top in your game – prove it._ He squared his shoulders as the car slowed down and the doors slid open.

Nonetheless, despite his pep talk, he wasn't quite prepared for the scene greeting him at his father's office suite. Justin had described where it was located, so he knew which direction to take out of the elevator, but he wasn't prepared at all for the media circus awaiting him by the office door. There must have been at least two dozen men and women, along with cameramen, camped directly to either side of the door, all looking like Barbie and Ken clones – wearing perfect suits, perfect makeup, perfect hair, and artificial-looking smiles as they spoke into the camera. He frowned, not exactly surprised to see a lot of media outside his father's office in light of his bid to be governor, but puzzled as to what exactly they had to report on at the moment. _Maybe they didn't really need a reason_, he thought scornfully; it seemed they were extremely talented at digging up dirt on their own when there wasn't any.

He took a calming breath as he strode up to the heavy, wooden door, noticing a pair of burly-looking men with big biceps standing with their arms crossed across their chests on either side of the entrance like some twin brothers of Mr. Clean. Giving them a cursory glance and trying to feign disinterest, Brian reached for the door handle only to have the bulldog on the left – a tanned blond with a buzz cut and dark blue, almost black eyes grab his arm. "Hey, watch it, asshole! This is Armani!" He growled at him as he glared into his unimpressed eyes and snatched his arm back from him.

Mr. Bodyguard No. One had the audacity to smirk. "I don't care if your suit used to belong to Elvis," he snarled as he held his arm in front of the door. "No invitation, no entrance."

Brian rolled his eyes; he could see several pairs of inquisitive eyes staring at him curiously as he verbally parried back and forth with the two gorillas dressed in security uniforms. He didn't recognize it as the same uniform worn by the security detail his father had hired for his and Justin's wedding, but that didn't really surprise him; those men at least had seemed to have some _class_. "Listen, King Kong, the Senator's expecting me."

The blond snorted; apparently the reference to King Kong didn't impress him, either. "Yeah, right, like I haven't heard that one a million times before."

Just then, to his relief, the door opened and a petite, well-dressed, older woman took one look at him and told the hired hand, "It's all right, Barry, the Senator's waiting for him." Brian turned to give the man a _fuck you_ sort of glare before he quickly entered the suite and one of the resentful goons closed the door firmly behind me.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Kinney," the woman apologized. "My name's Regina – I'm your father's secretary. He told me to go check and see if you were being _detained_." She smiled slightly as she explained, "Barry and Mario get a little carried away about their jobs sometimes, but they're only trying to make sure one of the media doesn't slip through somehow. The press can be very _creative_ sometimes with their ruses."

Brian nodded. "Yeah… I can imagine," he muttered. "How did you know who I was, anyway?"

The older woman smiled. "Are you kidding? I'm surprised the media didn't put two and two together and immediately realize who you were; you're the spitting image of a younger Fin." She held her hand out toward the inner door. "If you'll come with me," she asked as she walked over to another door and gave it a brief but firm knock. She opened it up and stuck her head in as Brian heard her say, "Fin, your son is here."

"Send him in, Regina," Brian heard his father immediately say. Smiling politely at him, Regina stepped aside as Brian walked into his father's obscenely-large suite, noticing the imposing mahogany desk and the curved row of three tall, narrow windows lining the left side of the room; the windows were devoid of any curtains as the sun streamed through them, bathing the office in bright light. Brian turned and nodded briefly at Regina as the woman returned his smile before walking to the door and softly closing it, leaving father and son alone.

Fin, dressed smartly in a navy-blue suit with a white and blue pinstriped shirt and maroon tie, rose from his dark brown leather chair, finding himself still a little awkward around his son even now. There was still so much he didn't know about Brian, so much he wanted to learn, and so much he wanted to tell him about where he came from. Sometimes he almost felt he would burst from all the questions he had for his son, wanting to pepper him with them nonstop until he knew everything he possibly could about him. Being a father was so new, so unfamiliar to him, but now that he knew he had a son and had gotten used to the idea, he was almost insatiable in his need to get to know him better. He took a deep breath before walking out from around his desk and stretching his hand out toward the younger man. "Brian," he said warmly. "This is a nice surprise. I trust you met my security detail outside?"

Brian shook his father's hand as he nodded. He huffed out an irritated breath as he broke off their gesture to verify, "Yeah… I had the _displeasure_." He brushed one hand through his hair as he stated, "They're not from the security detail you used for my wedding, are they?"

Fin smiled. "No," he conceded. "Mario and Barry were assigned to me automatically by the Senate, but they've been with me for years. They're not big on manners, but they're very loyal to me and they can almost smell a reporter a mile away."

Brian snorted, his voice dripping with disdain as he replied, "Well, in my case I think their radar was faulty. I bear no resemblance whatsoever to a _reporter._" He said the last word as if it were a disease.

Fin chuckled. "No, you're much more well-dressed than any reporter _I've_ ever seen," he agreed as he observed his son's perfectly tailored, charcoal-colored suit and light gray shirt. He walked over to a nearby wet bar, turning to ask, "Would you like a drink? Some coffee?"

Brian shook his head. "No, thanks. What I I'd like to do is get right to the point, Fin."

His father nodded his head, wondering if that meant good news or bad; either way, he had to admire Brian's no-nonsense attitude. "Sure," he told his son as he picked up his coffee mug and walked over to sit in his chair behind his desk; he motioned for Brian to take a seat in one of the matching, overstuffed chairs opposite him as he crossed his arms and leaned back. "Is this about what we discussed the other day?"

Brian nodded as he bent one leg and draped it across his other one and placed his hands in his lap. "Yes. I've given it a lot of thought and weighed the pros and cons about doing it. There're still a lot of concerns I have about the whole thing."

"I can imagine," Fin agreed. "Politics is not for the faint of heart, especially if you're in charge of running the whole show. I just have to show up, look pretty and sound intelligent; your job would be to make me _seem_ that way regardless."

Brian smirked. "Sounds like a good job for an advertising genius."

Fin smiled. "Does that mean you accept, then?"

Brian eyed his father carefully, attempting one last attempt at restraint before he leaped into the fire. "I still have some concerns – mainly about the privacy aspect – but I've never been one to back down from a challenge and I suppose I'm not about to start now. I have to admit – this would be the advertising challenge to end all challenges."

Fin's eyes lit up with pleasure. "Good - looks like we're _both_ fighters," he observed. "I'm very pleased that you've agree to do it, Brian. As they say, politics make strange bedfellows; in this business you never really know who you can trust. One day they can be bosom buddies with you, and the next day they'll stab you in the fucking back." He gazed into his son's face, so much like his own. "With you, I know at least I can trust you."

"How do you really know that, Fin? Just because we share the same DNA?" Brian challenged him. It wasn't as if they really knew that much about each other at all.

Fin studied his son for a few moments before conceding, "You're right – maybe I AM putting too much stock into that fact. But I _do_ trust Tony's instincts – and for that matter, Justin's – and they both think you're the man for the job. And so do I. We're a lot alike, Brian, whether you want to admit that or not."

"Someone I know and _normally_ love has already pointed that out, believe me," Brian remarked dryly. "But sometimes being so much alike can be a detriment rather than a benefit, you know. You might not care for my ideas for running your campaign, and if I _do_ agree to this whole circus, I would want complete control over how it's run. You sure you can go along with that?"

Fin considered that mandate; _was_ he willing to hand over the complete reins to his campaign to a son he just recently met? How much did he really know about this younger version of himself? Did he have a choice, though? It had been years since he had needed a campaign manager; he had been so popular as a state senator that he had virtually ran unopposed in the last few elections and they had almost run themselves. This time, though, he didn't that luxury; he was well aware of his opponent's popularity among the working class and he was going to need someone to steer his agenda in the right direction if he had a real hope of coming out victorious. It was time to trust his own instincts that his son was going to do that. He finally nodded as Brian waited expectantly. "Yeah… I'm willing to abide by whatever you see fit – provided I'm at least allowed to interject my viewpoint from time to time when we don't see eye to eye so we can engage in an intelligent discourse about any differences of opinion we might have."

Brian twisted his mouth upward in a half-amused, half-smug expression at the long-winded statement. "Spoken like a true politician," he said dryly. "Oh, I might let you get a word in here and there." He sobered somewhat, though, as he added seriously, "But I mean it, Fin. Advertising and business are my forte – if I agree to do this, your people need to know that in the end, what I say goes. I don't want some snot-nosed, fresh-faced overzealous college kid telling me what to do, or one of your backroom, old-hat political cronies who have a hand out for a favor thinking they can wield their influence over you. If they _do_, both of them will last about as long as it takes me to kick their ass out the door." He stared over at his father from the other side of the rather imposing desk. "Once I get involved in this, I'm putting my own company on the back burner – I can do that because of the loyalty and skill of the people I have working under me. I'm going to need that same type of loyalty in your campaign staff, too, or we might as well call it off right now."

A corner of Fin's mouth turned upward into an expression of grudging admiration. "I agree wholeheartedly, Mr. Campaign Manager," he said as he extended his hand over the desk. "So do we have a deal?"

Brian eyed his father for a few seconds, realizing the ramifications of what his decision would mean to both his and Justin's lives as well as his company that he had built from the ground up, before he finally reached over and grasped his father's hand to firmly shake it. "We've got a deal."

Fin smiled now, relieved and pleased that the question of what his son was going to do was finally decided once and for all. "Good," he said, releasing Brian's hand and standing up. "Then what I'd like to do is call a press conference tomorrow to formally introduce you to the media." He walked over to the wet bar to pour himself another cup of coffee.

"Hold on just a second," Brian admonished him from his place on the other side of the desk. "I want to meet with your campaign staff first. I need to find out what sort of people you have working for you, and I want _them_ to know what I expect of them as well as what they can expect of _me_. Then we all need to sit down and discuss what your current platform is and where it might need to be refined. And we need to find out what sort of demographic base you have and where your weak areas are. There's a lot to do before we go trying to get in bed with the press," he remarked, shuddering at the thought; that was one aspect he was definitely _not_ going to enjoy. "And one more thing… I need to find out everything there is to know about your opponent."

"Turner."

Brian nodded his head. "Yeah… Justin told me a little about him after he talked to Tony. Seems there's a connection between this guy and Justin's asshole father."

Fin nodded. "Yeah… Tony told me. About the connection _and_ about what Justin's father did to him. That's unbelievable – how could you treat someone like Justin that way, especially your own _son_? He's intelligent, creative, loyal to a fault, passionate…"

"He's queer," Brian said bluntly. "That's all his father sees when he looks at him." Even now, after all this time and after what they had overcome, Brian knew it still upset Justin greatly how his father had treated him – and continued to treat him. He never really mentioned Craig anymore – after all, what was the point? But Brian knew it remained a source of sorrow nonetheless to his husband, and it made his blood boil at the thought of someone treating Justin that way. In a way, it was worse than what Jack Kinney had done to him – at least he and his adoptive mother were dead now and couldn't hurt him anymore, unlike Justin's dad continued to do.

Fin nodded. "Well, he's a fucking idiot, then," he stated unequivocally as he took a sip from his mug and leaned his tall frame against the wet bar.

"I guess that's one more thing we agree on," Brian told him, his jaw set.

His father walked back over and sat down on the corner of the desk close to Brian's chair. "I'll call a meeting with my entire campaign staff for tomorrow morning then. Nine o'clock?"

Brian nodded. "Where?"

"I've actually got a space rented out a few miles east of here closer to downtown for my temporary campaign headquarters – I'll have Regina give you the address before you leave."

Brian stood up and wiped his hands idly on his dress pants. "Okay. I'll see you tomorrow at nine, then." He once more accepted his father's outstretched hand and shook it before turning to go. "Oh… And one more thing – going forward I want all press releases regarding your campaign to go through me first." After his and Fin's name had been splattered all over the front pages of several papers across Pennsylvania lately, as well as on the web, he was hoping to find some way to better control any subsequent collateral damage.

Fin nodded as he stood up from his perch on the corner of his desk and watched his son leaving. "Brian," he called out just before the younger man reached for the doorknob.

Brian turned around with an arched brow in question. "Yeah?"

"I'm looking forward to us working together. I feel good about this."

Brian smirked as his hand rested on the doorknob. "Better hold off on your assessment until we get mired in the muck first; they don't call it the dirty world of politics for nothing." He opened the door, uttering one simple, trademark word just before leaving: "Later."

Fin curled his lips under in amusement. "Later," he whispered as he watched his son leave; it was almost as if a bold, forceful hurricane had just receded. He shook his head; his son might be reserving judgment on how well his campaign would do in the coming months, but he had no qualms about it. They would either come out victorious or give Turner the run of his fucking life. Buoyed by his son's agreement to help lead his campaign, he walked back over to his desk to place a call to his partner to give him the good news.

* * *

_Britin – 30 minutes later_

Justin wiped his hands on a nearby paint-smudged rag as he walked over to a shelf to retrieve his ringing cell phone. Glancing at the caller I.D. as he flipped it open, he smiled. "You _do_ work for a living, don't you?" he teased.

"They let out for the day at four," Tony told him. "I just got off the phone with Fin."

"Well, don't leave me in the dark, Perry Mason, what happened?"

"How does it feel to be married to the new campaign manager of Fin O'Connor's gubernatorial campaign?"

Justin laughed softly. "And I thought he had a big head before. He'll be downright impossible to live with now."

"Well, I know Fin was ecstatic about it," Tony told him as he sat on a wooden bench in the courtroom's hallway. "When it comes to being campaign manager, cocky and assertive can be a plus. You don't want some timid little mouse going up against the press – or Fin's opponent."

"You mean Turner," Justin stated; even though he knew essentially nothing about the man, just the mention of the candidate's name put a sour taste in his mouth. He knew the man's connection with his father was tenuous at best, but it still made him think of him just the same. "Well, trust me, when it comes to Brian, 'timid little mouse' he's not."

"I'm sure," Tony responded with a laugh. "But Turner's pretty much got the conservative faction in his pocket already. Even though Democratic voters outweigh Republicans 60/40 in this state, the last 10 of 16 governors elected here have been Republican. And fair or not, the fact that Fin's gay isn't going to help. Brian's going to have his work cut out for him."

"Don't forget – he's _not _the only gay part of his team," Justin reminded him. "In fact, he's got a fucking tripleheader – at least if you leave _me_ out of the equation." Fin had not only recently divulged his own sexual orientation to the media after he had announced his candidacy, but he had also introduced Tony to the masses as well. And now, thanks to the recent publicity regarding his son, everything was now out in the open, just ready to be picked apart by suspicious, homophobic voters. How that would be received by the Pennsylvania constituency versus Fin's strong record of public service, however, remained to be seen.

"Yeah, you're right," Tony replied. "But I think it's better to be up front about all of it going in, don't you?" He recalled how hard it had been to get Fin to come clean to the press; it had taken quite a bit of wheedling and downright blackmail on his part to get him to do it. Only after meeting Justin and observing how open and courageous he was about his own situation, in addition to him actually forcing Fin's hand by threatening to leave him, did his partner have the balls to finally admit who – and what – he was to the public.

"You know my answer to that already," Justin told him. "I don't know a lot about politics, but it's only common sense that you don't want to go into a campaign with secrets to hide." He glanced up at the clock over his studio's doorway. "Any idea what time Brian left Harrisburg?"

"About 3:45 or so, I think. Fin called me right after court adjourned for the day and said Brian had left about 15 minutes earlier. He's coming back tomorrow morning at 9:00 for a staff meeting with Fin's campaign workers."

Justin laughed softly. "Fuck – I'd like to be a fly on the wall for _that_ meeting. You've never seen Brian in action at work, have you?" That was one thing Justin had found fascinating during the relatively short time he had worked with Brian as an intern. He knew as successful as Brian was in advertising that his husband had to be tenacious when he pursued a client's business, but he had had no idea just how demanding Brian could be as a leader when an important account was at stake. Hell, the man had even fired _him _when he had screwed up, although he suspected that had more to do with how distracting he was being to him personally and not because of business… Of course, that had been the whole point at the time, to somehow let Brian know what he was (hopefully) missing while they had been separated. He had eventually had to give up his job, but in the end he had secured something much more precious to him instead – Brian; the job had merely been the means to a wonderful, satisfying end.

Tony chuckled. "No, but if he's anything like _Fin_ in action, I can imagine," he surmised. The older man glanced down at his cell phone for the time. "Look, I've got to get going – I promised Fin I'd fix him one of his favorite dishes at home tonight; chicken Parmesan."

"No shit!" Justin exclaimed with a laugh.

"Don't tell me – it's one of Brian's favorites, too."

"Okay, I won't," Justin replied. "But that is fucking weird… It's kind of like twins that have been raised apart and find each other several years later and discover they have the same job and the same hobbies and wind up finishing each other's sentences."

Tony smiled. "Yeah, I know. I have a feeling that's not going to be the last of the similarities, either. I only hope once they start working together, they don't wind up killing each other because of it."

Justin laughed. "Yeah, me, too." Wedging his cell phone in the crook of his shoulder, he walked over to the sink with some of his used paintbrushes and began to run water over them to rinse them out. "Well, I appreciate the heads up, Tony. Brian should hopefully be back in a couple of hours or so. Thanks for letting me know."

"No problem… I'm really excited about this, Justin. I think Brian will put a whole new spin on Fin's campaign and really re-energize it now. If anyone can pull this off for Fin, I know Brian can."

"Well, just don't forget our dinner invitation at the Governor's mansion," he teased his friend. "Talk to you soon – I'd better go find something to fix for dinner, too."

"Okay – I'll be in touch," was the echoing reply as Tony hung up and walked out to the parking garage to start his car and head back to his and Fin's home. He still had to be careful about prying eyes lurking around wherever he went, but at least at the courthouse he had access to the private, underground parking facility, which made his exit a little easier to hide. It still didn't mean he didn't have to be careful, however; Fin had insisted he didn't have to wear his insipid disguises any more, but he found that they still came in handy. If he didn't use one of them to evade the press, he wasn't able to use the secret, back entrance they had without being detected. Once he could enter the gate, though, their security system kicked in and he could finally find the peace and privacy he and his partner continued to crave but didn't always receive.

With a sigh, then, he reached in the backseat of his candy apple red Mustang and retrieved the dark black, slightly wavy man's wig he always kept at the ready; he had used so many disguises by now, he could practically put a wig on with one hand tied behind his back. Making short shrift of the disguise, he quickly donned the wig and straightened it up before putting his sunglasses on and slowly backing the car out of its assigned space, mentally counting off in his mind the items he needed for his meal.

* * *

_Britin – same time_

Justin finished cleaning up his paintbrushes and, wiping his hands off on a clean towel this time, he walked downstairs to the second floor. Hesitating for a few seconds, he turned to the right and walked down to the unfinished bedroom he had been in yesterday; pausing in the doorway, he noticed his sketchbook still lying on the floor where he had left it after he and Brian had found more _interesting_ activities to occupy themselves with it.

Walking over to pick up the spiral-bound pad, he slowly flipped through the tentative sketches he had made to transform the present Spartan-looking room into something much different. Gone were the bare, beige-colored walls and tall, uncovered windows. Gone were the few pieces of antique furniture left by the previous tenant. Gone was the stark feeling the room currently possessed. As he leafed through the several pages of drawings, the room came alive with a nautical theme nursery in shades of steel gray, rust, cream, and gold, with a bed shaped like a sleek sailboat cradled against the opposite wall. On either side of the tall windows, built-in, cream-colored shelves with rope-like braided trim ran down the length of the sides, and a cream-upholstered window seat with blue pin stripes sat nestled between them, providing a new parent with a perfect spot to hold his child as he rocked him or her to sleep or burped a full stomach after being fed, as well as providing storage underneath for supplies.

To preserve the stream of sunlight that always flooded into the room, Justin had drawn some simple, cream-colored wooden shutters with blue sailboats and water drawn on them that could be opened or closed either manually or with a remote control to decide how much light was allowed to enter. Over in a corner of the room, opposite the windows, was a play area complete with a small, white sandy beach made from a converted upraised wooden gardening kit and an old-fashioned, sailor's steering wheel just sized for little toddler hands to turn and play captain with. A fish aquarium was built into a recessed part of one wall, unavailable to prying, curious, chubby little hands but accessible on the other side from the next room for feeding and maintenance. Rope resembling a fish net was strung across one corner of the ceiling, filled to capacity with various stuffed animals. A thick-padded, ivory-colored rocker-recliner with a matching ottoman and a sailor's compass painted on the ceiling surrounding the ship's wheel light completed the scene.

As he came to the last page, he realized he hadn't quite settled on a theme for the walls. He was torn between leaving them merely a solid color, such as the same cream tone with a blue pin-stripe across the middle as the window seat, or going all out and painting some sort of ocean scene on them complete with frothy waves, boats, and fish… even a mermaid. He grinned – somehow, even though Brian had pretty much given him carte blanche to do whatever he wanted with the redecorating of the house, he didn't think his husband would be the mermaid type when it came to a nursery.

He sighed as he sat down on the overstuffed chair nearby, the sketchpad in his lap. He was getting carried away – installing a nursery before there was even a baby; in fact, he was _really_ getting carried away. What made him even think there would BE a baby? He didn't know what Brian's reaction to any of this would be, and now that it appeared his husband had actually decided to work for his father's campaign, he knew now wasn't a good time to broach the subject anyway. He couldn't quite decide when it had happened – this feeling, this ache to hold a child – his and Brian's child – in his arms and watch him or her grow. Oh, he knew technically it wouldn't biologically be both of theirs, but emotionally speaking it would be. And any child, whether it was from his DNA or Brian's, would have to be wanted by both of them.

Before they had gotten married, it had never even occurred to him to discuss the topic with Brian. He already had one child in his life that he thought of as his own – Gus – and Gus had begun to call him Poppa rather than Justin, at both Brian's urging and Mel and Lindsay's, a fact that made him very proud. Gus had often times asked if he was his daddy, too, and after gently correcting him a few times, Brian had put a stop to that recently and finally told Gus, that, yes, Justin _was_ his other daddy and he could call him Poppa. Now, every time they saw Gus and he called him that, it filled his heart with so much pride and love sometimes he thought he would burst from the emotion it generated.

Things had been so hectic before the wedding – between all the plans for their nuptials and the unexpected discovery of Brian's father – that having another child was pushed to the back of his mind. But the thought had never quite left him, and the more it lay dormant, the more it continued to fester lately until he had to find an outlet to express himself. As he had walked by this adjacent room to their bedroom a few days ago, he had found himself drawn to the light the room welcomed in and how perfect it would be for a nursery. As often happened when he was inspired, he had flipped a new sketchbook open and his fingers had almost flown over the pages as he rapidly began to sketch out ideas on how to turn this cavernous room into a warm, inviting living space for a newborn and later a toddler. Time had flown by that day as he had realized with a start that several hours had come and gone before he even thought to eat, a true sign that he was engrossed in a project, he thought with a smirk.

He bit his lip in thought and his fingers curled around the edges of the book as he stared down at the page showing the window seat, one of the components he had been most intrigued with; he could almost picture him reclining lengthwise on the seat, his back to the side of one of the bookcases, pillows behind him as his and Brian's child lay across his torso, tiny, lush eyelashes closed as he hummed him or her to sleep and watched the little chest rise and fall softly with each breath…

He shook his head as if to push all his wistful thoughts aside. _Not going to happen, at least anytime soon, Taylor_, he chided himself. "That's _Taylor-Kinney_ to you, Buster," he corrected aloud as he twisted his mouth. _As in we BOTH have to decide we want this_, he reminded himself as he stood up, sketchbook in hand. He knew Brian would be home soon and didn't need the added stress of his sappy, sentimental dream of having another child. Walking over and placing the now-closed sketchbook on top of the polished, mahogany fireplace mantel, he turned and exited the room to begin thinking of something to fix them for dinner.

* * *

_Thirty Minutes Later – Harrisburg – Fin and Tony's Home_

"Well, this has to be a first," Tony declared as he came into the house through the garage and placed his black leather briefcase down on the tall, compact table just inside the kitchen that they used for a message center; he smirked as he noticed a bag of his partner's favorite chocolate-chip cookies lying nearby – apparently Fin had _also_ had time to stop by the bakery on the way home as well. He walked over to Fin who was taking a beer out of the refrigerator and, placing one hand on his partner's shoulder, gave the taller man a brief kiss on the cheek. "You home before me? How did _that_ happen?"

Fin smiled as he turned and handed Tony another beer. "Maybe I'm doing a little celebrating… Care to join me?" he asked with a waggle of his brows.

Tony laughed as the two carried their beers into the nearby living room and sat down side by side on the butter-colored leather couch. He curled his legs up under his body as he placed one hand on Fin's bicep and took a swig of his beer. "Feeling pretty cocky now that your son has agreed to be your campaign manager, aren't you?" he observed; he saw the corners of his partner's mouth curve upward into a smile as the steel-gray eyes turned to gaze into his amused ones.

"Yeah… Maybe I am," he conceded as he leaned down to kiss Tony's lips briefly. "Mmmm… Beer lips," he joked as he licked across the full, lower lip. He wet his own lips before he took a sip of his drink and said, "I think our chances just increased dramatically. Brian's not wasting any time calling for a staff meeting tomorrow morning with everyone working on the campaign. I hope they're all still on board after he's done with them," he said with a laugh. "I don't think my son is one to coddle anyone – and come to think of it, I wouldn't want that type of person working on my campaign anyway, not if we're going to be successful." He wrapped his free arm around Tony's shoulders and pulled him closer to briefly give the slender body a squeeze as he grunted. "I am _so_ psyched now, Tony!" he exclaimed, his eyes sparkling in excitement. "I just know he's going to beat my staff into shape and we're going to nail that Turner!"

Tony smiled up into the handsome, radiant face. "I know you will, too, Fin. And I think you and Brian will find out a lot more about each other in the process." He frowned slightly.

"What?" Fin asked, his brows arching in concern. "What is it?"

"Speaking of which… Have you ever told Brian about your _own_ parents? His fraternal grandparents?"

Now it was Fin's turn to frown. "You know what," he replied in amazement. "No, actually I _haven't _told him about them. These past few months have been such a fucking whirlwind, Brian didn't think to ask and I didn't think to tell him." He twisted his body around just enough to stare into Tony's face. "I'll have to make a point of doing that. Really between the time we found out each of us existed, and all the plans for the wedding and my campaign, we haven't had much time to sit down and go over the O'Connor family tree. I know it sounds highly nerdy, but I'd like to whip out my family photos and show them to him over dinner one night."

Tony placed his beer bottle down on the coffee table to lightly stroke Fin's chest, quietly sneaking his hand inside to slide over the warm flesh underneath. "Sound likes a good idea," he murmured a little absentmindedly. "But if you don't mind holding off for a little while on dinner, I'd like for you to _whip out_ something else right now."

Fin grinned. "Oh, you would, would you? Trying to take advantage of the one time I get home before you do?" He answered his partner's request by placing his own beer bottle down on the coffee table and turning their bodies lengthways on the couch so he was now lying on top of the slender blond's frame. He took Tony's smaller hand in his and placed it on top of his quickly-hardening cock. "Is this the particular part you had in mind, Counselor?"

Tony licked his lips playfully and nodded. "Very astute of you, Senator; that is _precisely_ the part I had in mind. Let the evidence show that the other party is quite willing – and able – to comply with the court's request; no, make that _demand_," he added, grinning as Fin leaned down and planted a passionate kiss on the soft lips.

"Well, never let it be said that I didn't comply with the court's _demands_," Fin said as they finally parted. He began to unbutton Tony's shirt as his partner's hands slowly caressed his back in anticipation. "I think your chicken parmesan can wait until after I _eat_ something else."

* * *

_Britin – 6:15 p.m._

Brian grinned as he quietly opened the garage door leading into the kitchen and observed Justin standing in front of the stove, stirring something that smelled of tomatoes and Italian spices; his husband was softly humming some undecipherable tune from the MP3 player he was holding in his free hand as his hips swayed to the unknown beat and he stirred in time with the music. Softly he crept up to the younger man, stopping briefly to admire the still delectable ass winking back at him from Justin's tight-fitting jeans. He figured he would never grow tired of admiring _that_ view as he walked up behind the blond and slowly wrapped his arms around the slender waist. He felt Justin's initial jolt of surprise before his body seemed to melt as he leaned back into his familiar embrace.

"I thought you had already left," Justin whispered, the headphones still in his ears. "My ogre husband will be home soon – better leave while you can; he's the extremely jealous type." He squeaked as he felt Brian almost squeezing the breath out of him, shortly followed by his headset being promptly removed as he was whirled around to face him. "Oh… It's you," Justin said with a smile, his eyes twinkling mischievously. "You're home early," he said brightly as he smiled. "How was your day, dear?" he sing-songed.

"Little shit," Brian growled as his lips promptly crashed down onto Justin's and his arms pulled him possessively against his body; Justin blindly reached back to make sure the wooden spoon he had been stirring with was placed back into the pot before he slid his hands around Brian's neck and kissed him back with fervor. Only when he felt his ass literally getting hot did he jump visibly and break their kiss.

"Fuck, Brian!" he growled as he twisted around in Brian's arms to observe his ass pressed up against the edge of the electric burner. He pushed away from it, rubbing the affected ass cheek with one hand. "I'm almost got burned back there."

Brian grinned as he nuzzled Justin's neck as if it were some rare delicacy. "I always said you were hot," he murmured against the soft, smooth skin; his lips could feel Justin's giggle that bubbled up from inside the pale throat as he slid his mouth up to the lower, fleshy part of the seashell lobe to nip at it playfully before he leaned back to stare into the crystal-blue eyes peering up at him in amusement. "I'd say you need cooling off instead, but what I had in mind wouldn't do that…" Justin blushed adorably just as he had anticipated as he smiled down tenderly at him, his lips curled under in response to his reaction. "I need a shower – care to join me?" he asked hopefully.

Justin smiled. "Tempting as always, but I need to watch the stove. I'm making one your favorites," he added.

"Well, if you turn that off temporarily you can feed me one of my _other_ favorite dishes upstairs," Brian persisted; between the typical fuck ups he had encountered at Kinnetik, and his conversation with his father earlier, he was feeling like he needed a stress buster, and he couldn't think of a better one than a little old-fashioned shower fuck with his favorite participant. He arched his brows playfully and smiled that smile that he always knew made a certain blond waver in his determination.

Justin rolled his eyes. "You're so transparent, Mr. Kinney," he teased as Brian grinned.

"No… _Hard_," he corrected as he placed Justin's hand over his bulging cock. "Now what are you going to do about it?" he challenged.

Justin twisted his mouth in amusement. "I guess we'll just have to have desert before dinner, then," he decided as he turned the stove's burner off and took Brian's hand in his. "I'm feeling kind of dirty all of a sudden myself."

Brian smiled broadly. "I thought so." Nodding, he added, tongue in cheek, "Good; while we're _getting clean_, then, I can tell you all about Fin's new campaign manager. I hear he's a top-notch advertising genius who's going to kick the opponent's ass straight to the loser's curb."

Justin laughed as they swung their arms back and forth hand in hand down the hall toward the staircase heading toward the upstairs master bathroom. They paused at the bottom of the steps to exchange one more kiss before Justin admitted softly, "I have a confession to make; Tony already called me before you got home." He gazed up through golden-colored lashes into the piercing dark eyes boring into his. "Ow!" he exclaimed shortly afterward as Brian reached out with his free hand and smacked him on the ass. "What was _that_ for?"

Brian leaned in to whisper in his ear, "That was for being naughty again – that's twice this week. I'll have to discipline you properly when we get upstairs," he added, his sexy voice creating a thrill of anticipation in his husband.

Justin grinned. "I'll race you," he quickly decided as he let go of Brian's hand and began to run up the steps, two at a time. Brian shrugged for a second before he, too, rushed to catch up to his fleet-of-foot dynamo of a husband, deciding that if this was the way he could relieve stress during the campaign, he would make sure to get home early _every _day.

* * *

_Same Day – Early Evening – Wilkes-Barre, Pennsylvania_

"I've been waiting for your call," Richard Turner told the man on the other end of the phone; he had purposely waited past the time all his campaign workers had left so he could speak with the caller privately. "You were supposed to call me hours ago."

"Sorry," the caller said from his place at his desk; bumper stickers, magnetic labels, flyers and metal campaign buttons – all advertising the strengths and attributes of 'his' candidate for governor – Fintan O'Connor – were strewn across the surface of the wooden desk, which was wedged in between several others in the narrow rental space. "I had to wait until everyone else left," the other man told him defensively. "You want everyone here to know I'm really working for the other side?"

"No, of course not," Turner snapped. "Quit being such a smart ass; you e-mailed that you had something to tell me, so spit it out."

The other man huffed softly in irritation, wondering why he bothered, but his fear that the gay, liberal man he was supposedly working for might actually succeed in his campaign for governor outweighed his aggravation. "Well," he began, "I just heard from O'Connor that his newly-appointed campaign manager is calling a staff meeting for first thing tomorrow to discuss strategy."

Turner snorted softly. "So O'Connor finally decided to show some balls and hire a campaign manager," he replied. "I was almost hoping he'd decide he was in over his fucking head and give up. So who _is _it?" he asked curiously.

His caller smiled. "That's the best part. Would you believe it's his queer son, Kinney? How convenient is _that_?"

Turner chuckled. "Oh, that's rich! Didn't he get the message the other day when the news was splattered all over the web and the newspapers? The press is going to be all over the fact that his gay son is running his campaign; how well do you think all the conservative Republicans will respond to _that_ news? Oh, this is perfect!" he declared with glee. "He's just sealed his own fucking coffin!"

The caller laughed. "I couldn't agree more. I _thought_ you'd find the information interesting. I'll call you tomorrow after the meeting's over. Want me to find out some more about Kinney for you in the meantime?"

Turner shook his head, a wide smile on his face. "No… Leave that pleasure to me; I can't wait to find out what I can dig up on him myself. You just stick close to dear old dad tomorrow and let me know what happens at that meeting."

"Will do," the other man told him. "I'm heading out for the night; meeting's at 9:00 tomorrow."

"Got it," Turner said. "And… Thanks. This information should come in very handy."

"Just make sure you use it to your advantage," the other man warned him. "The last thing I want to see is some fag elected as Governor. I'm counting on you to make sure that doesn't happen."

* * *

A few minutes later, Turner was deeply engrossed in surfing the internet, gleaning whatever bits of information he could on O'Connor's newly-discovered son and now campaign manager, Brian Kinney. As he read over the wedding article recently listed on the social pages of some gay publication for Pittsburgh, he scowled at the shot of O'Connor's son with his new 'husband,' the former Justin Taylor. "That is so perverted," he said, scowling deeply at the photo of the two men dancing with each other. "Taylor," he murmured as he stared at the photo of the handsome, shorter blond man being held in Kinney's arms, thinking he looked familiar for some reason.

"Shit!" he exclaimed after a few minutes as the reason finally struck him. Reaching for the phone, he dialed a number by memory, waiting rather impatiently for it to be answered. Finally, after three rings, his wish was granted.

"Craig! Dick Turner! Yeah, it _has_ been a while… How's the new wife?" After a few minutes of polite bullshit, the businessman finally got down to the reason for his call.

"Uh… Yeah, listen, there's something important I need to talk to you about but not over the phone. Are you free for dinner tonight?" After a few seconds, he smiled broadly. "Good... Good. I'm sure you'll find the subject matter quite interesting. How does eight o'clock sound at the Premiere Steakhouse downtown?"

A few minutes later and his discussion ended, the politician flipped his laptop closed and, placing it securely in its case, he reached to grab his suit jacket to head out for what would no doubt be a very enlightening discussion with an old business friend. _Game on, O'Connor_, he growled silently with a smile as he slid behind the driver's wheel. _Game on_.


	13. Taking Chances

_Premier Steakhouse – Downtown Pittsburgh – 8:05 p.m._

Craig Taylor idly drummed his perfectly-manicured fingernails on the booth's table inside the nearly-deserted restaurant as he waited impatiently for his dinner companion. The call from Dick Turner, the owner of his former freight delivery company and now gubernatorial candidate, had come as a surprise but it shouldn't have really; the businessman's name and photo had been splashed all over the newspapers and the web ever since he had announced his intention to run for governor. Once that happened, Craig assumed it was just a matter of time before he came figuratively knocking on his door for a hefty campaign contribution. That at least seemed the logical explanation for his call earlier to set up a meeting with him.

He glanced at his Rolex and scowled, noting the man was running late; if there was one thing he detested, it was people who didn't appreciate his valuable time and kept him waiting, especially when HE was the one doing the other person a favor. Downing the rest of his whiskey in one gulp, he decided he would give him five more minutes, and then 'important topic' or not, he was out of there.

Just then, Turner came rushing in from the hostess station, his face flushed and hair tousled. He scurried up to Taylor with an apologetic smile on his face. "Craig. I am _so_ sorry. My flight out of Harrisburg was late because of this God-awful weather. You would think with a private plane that wouldn't be an issue," he added as he stuck his hand out to shake Taylor's hand. Craig hesitated for a couple of seconds, still perturbed that he had been kept waiting, before with a curt expression on his face he accepted the gesture. "Dick… You cut it close. I was about to head out of here," he advised sternly as they broke off their greeting and the other man quickly slid into the black vinyl booth's seat opposite the other man.

Turner nodded. "I realize you're a busy man, Craig," the other man mollified him as he motioned with his hand for the waitress to hurry over to take his drink order. "After all, we're both successful business owners, and I know only too well how much time is required in order to maintain one."

"Cut the flattery bullshit," Craig retorted as he eyed his dining companion intently from the other side of the booth. "We both know why you're here, Dick; you could have saved us both a trip by just asking me for a contribution over the phone."

Turner smiled. "That's true," he responded. "But I'm not just here to ask for your money, Craig. There's a LOT more at stake here." He lowered his voice and looked around to make sure no one was listening as he added, "That is, if you want to make sure your son's fag of a father-in-law isn't elected governor in November." He watched as Craig's face darkened at the mention of O'Connor; he figured that his dining companion had no doubt seen the photo from the Kinney-Taylor wedding recently and now knew the connection between the state senator and his new 'son-in-law,' as distasteful as the idea certainly seemed to him.

"Don't call that queer my son's _father-in-law_," Craig whispered across the table, not wanting to be overheard. "The whole wedding was a farce and a freak show; to even equate it with a _real_ wedding between a man and a woman is an abomination." Despite the fact that he and Jennifer had been divorced for several years now, and he had disowned his son around the same time, he still maintained a relationship with his daughter Molly, who to his great displeasure frequently peppered her conversation when they were together with details regarding Justin and Kinney, even though he constantly tried to dissuade her from doing it. So he knew the two of them were still together from what she had told him; however, until he had actually seen that blasphemy of a wedding photo in the local paper, he had had no idea they had actually gotten _married_, at least in the State of West Virginia's eyes. And furthermore, he had been stunned to discover that Kinney had been adopted and his real father was Fin O'Connor, the gay state senator who was seeking a term as Pennsylvania's governor. There was no fucking way he was ever going to bless or condone his estranged son's wedding, much less endorse a candidate who espoused such radical, perverted beliefs. At least it went a long way toward explaining why Kinney was a queer; he must have inherited the trait from his real father…

He narrowed his eyes, his face flushed with anger. "Actually, I don't fucking care _what_ they do – Justin is no longer my son anyway." Internally, however, he couldn't help the pang of loss that shot through him, despite his vocal declaration; once, not so long ago, he and Justin had had a good father-son relationship – for several years the two of them had gone fishing and hiking together every summer, just he and his son, staying in a cabin he had inherited from his parents at the time of their deaths in a boating accident. And they had enjoyed going every year to the auto expo downtown to check out the new models available as he watched, amused, while his son tried out every car and truck in the place, sitting behind the wheel dreaming of the day when he was the driver. They had played numerous tennis games together at the local country club, his chest filling with pride as Justin became quite an accomplished player, and they had bonded while working on an old '55 Chevy together, eventually entering it into a classic car competition and winning third prize. The car and bronze-colored trophy had remained in their home's garage, a source of pride for both of them as well as an unspoken, surprise gift to Justin once he was old enough to drive it; that is, until their falling out over his son's admission that he was a queer. It wasn't long after that that he and Jennifer had filed for divorce and the car had been sold as part of their dissolution. It was just as well anyway, he thought, because he would have never given his prized possession to Justin now anyhow. Now all that was left was regret over what might have been and a sour taste in his mouth as he considered the reality of what was.

"I'm sorry to hear that, Craig," Turner told him with a sympathetic glance as the waitress walked up to take his order for a gin and tonic. The businessman asked her to refill Craig's drink as well before he continued, "But no matter what your relationship is – or isn't – with your son, surely you want to do all that you can to see that we don't have some fag politician governing our State."

Craig pondered whether the man's expression of sympathy was sincere, but he decided in the long run it didn't matter because the repercussions of what might happen were too important to ignore. "Of course I don't want him there," Craig bristled. "His bastard son has already made a mockery of marriage by pretending to get married to…to _Justin_." Even now, it was painful to say his son's name aloud, knowing what he used to have and what he had irrevocably lost. He stared over at Turner, his gaze steely and hard. "I will contribute more than my share to see that he doesn't wind up winning the election." He reached into his breast pocket to retrieve his checkbook. "How much do you want, Turner?"

Turner held up his hand in a placating gesture. "Hold on, I will be more than glad to accept your contribution," he reassured him with a smile. "And I am very appreciative of your support, Craig," he added smoothly, his voice modulated just perfectly in the way that only politicians seemed to have. "But I didn't just ask you for dinner simply to extract you from your money."

Craig eyed the man curiously in silence as the waitress returned to briefly place their drinks down in front of them; as soon as she had left he asked, "Well, what _else_ DO you want, then, Turner?"

The other man smiled. "Well, why don't we wait until our other guest shows up and then I won't have to repeat it."

"_Other guest_?"

"Hello, Gentlemen."

As if it had been timed perfectly, a voice sounded nearby as Craig twisted around in his seat to see their visitor and smirked in comprehension. "Well, well, well… Look who just crawled out from under a rock." He watched as the other man peered back at him smugly before Turner silently slid across the booth's seat to make room for their new arrival.

"I would have thought you would still be locked up," Craig told Stockwell. "Didn't you get five years?"

The former policeman stared down at the other man while wearing a conceited sneer on his face. "That's what I was sentenced to," he verified. "But it helps to know people in the right places. Plus, anyone can get out early for good behavior, even cops." He eyed the other man curiously; so this was the estranged father of the little fucker who had been at least partly instrumental in bringing him down with those insulting 'works of propaganda art,' although he still blamed Kinney for most of his troubles. If it hadn't been for those scathing television ads, he had no doubt he would have presently been Pittsburgh's reigning mayor. Thanks to the former advertising executive's creativity, however, he instead had wound up having both his reputation and career aspirations ruined; he doubted if he could even run for dogcatcher now. He had no visible means of support – now or in the future thanks to Kinney and his happy little housewife; if it hadn't been for his wife's inheritance of old money several years ago, he had no doubt they would be living in some slum apartment instead of the home she had managed to keep while he had been incarcerated. It was little comfort, however, to either his reputation or to his pride that he had been locked up as a common criminal, so it wasn't too surprising that he would place all of his support in Turner's camp. He would do almost anything to see that Kinney's father wasn't elected governor, even if it meant being in cahoots with a man he really didn't respect or admire; it was simply the lesser of two evils for him.

"Jim, this is Craig Taylor. Craig, I see you already figured out who this man is."

Craig nodded as he eyed the imposing, dark-haired man who was towering over their table; he was somewhat surprised to see that he was quite muscled for someone who must have had less-than-optimal fitness facilities, although he appeared to have lost some weight and was now sporting salt-and-pepper hair. "I think everyone in Pittsburgh knows you – for good or bad." He shook his head slightly at the improbability of having dinner with the former, now-disgraced chief of police. "I guess politics really _does_ make for strange bedfellows."

Stockwell smiled as he looked over at the other man; Turner had already filled him in on the details surrounding Justin Taylor's father and he decided he would be a perfect complement to their team, as well as a giant _fuck you_ to the man who had been instrumental in ruining him . "We all have the same agenda here, Taylor," he replied as he sat down next to Turner. "Preventing that queer from becoming the next governor of our state. Because trust me – the man's got just enough of a constituent base to succeed, if we don't act right now to stop it." His face hardened as he added, "I know Kinney personally – TOO personally; the man is pompous, conceited, and underhanded. He won't stop at anything to see that his fag father is elected. It's up to us to make sure that doesn't happen."

Craig eyed the two men skeptically, not sure if he wanted to be directly involved with them or not. He not only had to be concerned about his reputation but also his business, and he wasn't sure how much to trust these two. On the other hand, he also knew he certainly didn't want Kinney's father being elected as governor, either. "What do you think _I _can do, Stockwell?" he asked curtly. "I'm already committed to throwing my financial support toward Turner's campaign."

"That's not going to be enough to win this contest," Stockwell growled. "We need to undermine his campaign."

"Undermine? What do you mean?"

Turner and Stockwell locked gazes on each as the former police chief nodded almost imperceptibly in encouragement for him to continue. "What he means," Turner told his former client, "is that we need to hit him where he's most vulnerable. We need all the information we can get on his new campaign manager – Brian Kinney – as well as anyone else close to him, including O'Connor's partner Cassinelli; and ...your son."

Despite his vow that he didn't even _have_ a son anymore, Craig still couldn't help the lump that formed in his throat over the embarrassment he felt at the mention of his son. Justin had been raised in a comfortable, affluent, traditional environment by him and Jennifer; how in the hell did he become a queer that liked cock? It was so foreign to him he still had a hard time grasping how any son of his could have become such a perverse caricature of normalcy. He knew Turner was right – he would have to use everything in his arsenal to prevent O'Connor, the popular, multi-term state senator, from winning; but still in the back of his head, the thought of hurting his son even more whispered to him that it wasn't right to involve him in the other man's downfall. Now Brian Kinney – that was _another_ matter. He remembered his son's vow that he had fallen in love with the asshole from the moment they had met – even though that was impossible at his age to truly even know the difference between love and _lust_ – but the man had caused his son nothing but grief, pain, and trouble since the moment he had first laid eyes on what he had no doubt considered a 'fresh piece of sweet, young meat.' Why the man had agreed to 'marry' his son – if that could even be considered the right word for it – was unfathomable to him. Perhaps he just wanted his son there at his beck and call whenever he needed someone convenient to satisfy his abnormal, insatiable urges; whatever the case, he knew he would never understand their relationship, nor condone it. It certainly seemed like the _last_ thing someone like Kinney would agree to. But he didn't care – he loathed the man for what he had done to his son and how he had corrupted him and turned him from a responsible, decent young man into a queer. And he would do anything to hurt that asshole right where it would hurt the most.

He nodded at last, his jaw set in anger just at the thought of what Kinney had done to his son and their relationship. "What do you want to know?"

Turner and Stockwell smiled, pleased over the other man's willingness to help. "Well," Turner told him, having already discussed with Stockwell what they needed to concentrate on, "You can start by telling us how Kinney and your son met and what you know about his lifestyle."

Craig snorted in anger, his blood boiling at the thought of how Kinney had preyed on his son mercilessly until he had seduced him and gotten what he wanted. "No problem," he told them, his face lined with both weariness and resolve. "I'll be happy to tell you _all_ about it."

Turner nodded. "Good… Now why don't I get us another round of drinks?"

_Next Morning – Britin – 6:00 a.m. _

Brian felt like there was a firm but soft vise surrounding his torso as the faint beeping of his clock radio buzzed incessantly. He groaned at the intrusion, knowing it wasn't even light out yet, but _also_ realizing why he had been forced to set it so early; he had to meet Fin's private plane at the local regional airport at 8:15 in order to make sure he arrived at his father's campaign headquarters no later than his scheduled meeting at nine.

Punching the top button to silence it, he lifted his head slightly to peer down into an unruly mop of shiny, blond hair splayed across his chest and he couldn't help smiling. He couldn't resist moving his hand from Justin's back so he could lightly play with his husband's hair that had fallen into his closed eyes, still marveling at the long, golden eyelashes underneath that were covering the blue orbs. _So beautiful_, he thought silently as he gazed at Justin's face. _And mine… All mine, _he added with a certain amount of satisfied smugness. _God, I love you._

"Justin?" he whispered softly, hating to wake him up but knowing with the unexpectedly strong grip Justin had around him that it couldn't be helped. He heard a soft grunt of lethargic acknowledgment as he gently gave the blond's upper arm a push. "Justin… Sunshine, I have to get up."

Brian snorted in amusement as without missing a beat or opening his eyes, Justin's only response was to take Brian's hand and move it down to his cock, pressing down firmly on his longer hand for encouragement. Brian chuckled softly as he gave it an accommodating squeeze and heard an almost inaudible moan erupt from the perfect lips.

"Well, _I_ don't need to _get up_," Justin suddenly whispered as his mouth broke out into a sly grin. Brian watched as the eyes he knew so well slowly fluttered open to peer over at him curiously. "I'm already there." He blinked a couple of times before asking sleepily, "What time is it?"

"A little after six," Brian told him.

Justin's eyes widened as he became a little more alert. "Six? As in _a.m._? Are you feeling sick?"

Brian twisted his face in exasperation. "Very funny. Yes, as in _a.m._ Remember?" he asked as he idly stroked Justin's cock, almost without even realizing he was doing it; Justin, however, was feeling every stroke quite vividly. It was making his body temperature rise quickly in addition to his cock. He tried to concentrate on what Brian was saying as his husband reminded him, "I told you I was meeting with Fin's campaign staff this morning at nine. Now let me up before I change my mind and come to my senses instead."

Justin figured his husband was still having some last-minute reservations about agreeing to be Fin's campaign manager, but he _also_ knew Brian well enough to know that he was really the only person for the job – and the only person that Fin could fully trust. "You're going to be great," he told the brunet a little breathlessly, his heart beating rapidly as Brian continued to expertly stroke his shaft up and down. "With… With you as Fin's manager, he's a shoo-in."

Brian curled one side of his mouth up in amusement. "He is, is he? You're my husband and his son-in-law – you _have _to believe that."

Justin shook his head in protest as he began to brush his fingers up and down Brian's chest like he was playing a well-loved instrument. "No... You know I don't say anything I don't mean. He's lucky to have you; we _both_ are," he added a little shyly as Brian grinned in that lopsided way that always made his heart do flip-flops, even now.

"Glad you see it that way," Brian told him as he leaned down to steal a short but passionate kiss from the blond; one hand remained on Justin's upper arm as his other hand continued its ministrations below. "I guess I'll have to stay married to you then," he whispered as he pulled back to gaze playfully into Justin's eyes. He reached down with his one hand to pick up Justin's left hand and kiss the fingers curled there, the ring shining off the rapidly-receding moonlight filtering in through the open windows of their bedroom.

Brian's stroking of his cock was making him almost dizzy with desire. _What a way to wake up… _"Brian," he managed to pant out. "I… I thought you had to get up." He rolled his eyes in self-deprecation, because he knew the answer to his question before it had a chance to escape his husband's lips, which curled under in amusement.

"I plan on it," the brunet growled as his hand became more persistent. "I have just enough time for you to help me out with my little problem, too… Just as soon as I take care of _yours_." He began to pump Justin's cock in earnest now as he felt the tightening under his touch; he knew it would only take a few more seconds before… He felt Justin's hand clamping down on his in an attempt to still it and he raised his eyes to stare into the darkened ones – ones that he knew were full of lust and pending climax at his expert hand.

"No… Not like that," Justin said almost in embarrassment. His gaze dropped down to Brian's dick lying heavily between them and he reached over to cradle the weight in his hands, hearing an appreciative grunt in response. "Do you have enough time to…?"

Brian grinned at him lazily. "I _always_ have time for that, you twat," he growled. He gently but firmly pushed Justin down onto his back and pinned him down by his shoulder blades as his previous intention was quickly discarded in return for much more satisfying endeavors. Justin smiled back at him tenderly, instantly making his cock harden impossibly more and his heart skip a beat as Justin opened his legs wide to accommodate his body. He draped his torso over his husband's smaller one and leaned in to bestow a kiss on the soft, full lips, flicking his tongue out to take a swipe across them, relishing in the familiar, sweet taste. "Why do you think I got up so fucking early? It wasn't because I was eager to see my father again – I was eager for something _else._" He reached down with his hand to rub it across Justin's ass cheek, his fingers splayed across the soft, warm skin.

Justin murmured, "That's worth waking up early for _any_ day." He jumped slightly as he felt Brian poking his long middle finger slightly inside his puckered hole teasingly. "But I'd hate to make you late for your first meeting as campaign manager." His voice was heavy with lust as Brian grinned back at his reaction.

"Something tells me this won't take very long," he responded confidently in a velvety-smooth voice. He knew Justin so well by now – his voice, his body's reaction to his, the sounds he made, and the expression on his face – that he knew his husband was horny as hell and primed for action. He stretched his spare hand across the bed's mattress, just barely reaching the night table where they kept a small tube of lube handy. As his fingers curled around it and he pulled it back toward his body, he never took his eyes off his husband's; even though he had memorized practically every pore of Justin's face, he would never get enough of gazing into those pools of sapphire blue - eyes of love that were reserved just for him.

Justin held his breath as he waited for the familiar coldness of the lube; it took but a couple of seconds before he felt the wet, slick gel being slathered around his hole, followed quickly thereafter by a couple of Brian's fingers pressing inside. He arched slightly off the bed, using his feet planted down onto the mattress for leverage, as the sensations rushed through him and he gazed into Brian's face. "Ahhhhh," he hissed out at the pleasure/pain intrusion. He felt Brian stop his motion immediately at his response, waiting for him to signal it was okay to proceed. Since they no longer used any protection, every action was instantly felt even more intensely, and the emotions generated were so much more powerful.

Justin nodded; he knew Brian would never hurt him during sex, but it affected him deeply just the same knowing that his lover always worried about it anyway. "I'm okay," he whispered reassuringly. He lifted his legs to hook them around Brian's waist. "More," he purred eagerly.

Brian smiled at him tenderly and nodded back at him, his face already sweaty from exertion, before he pushed in deeper, marveling at the sensation he would never get used to or tired of. The gel that warmed upon contact and heightened sensitivity began to work its magic based on the expression on Justin's face as his husband grasped his arms firmly and urge him in further, the blond rocking in time perfectly with his forceful thrusts as he moaned in perfect tempo to each jab at his prostate. He loved the fact that Justin was so vocal during their lovemaking, telling him in intelligible moans and grunts how much he fucking loved what he was doing with him. Of course, Justin evoked the same exhilarating emotions in him, but his stubborn pride still prevented him from disclosing just how profoundly their lovemaking affected him as well. Somehow he had a feeling it really didn't matter, though, because he knew Justin was quite aware of it anyway.

"Deeper," Justin gasped out in a breathy command as Brian picked up his timing, tightly holding onto the soft skin of Justin's thighs so firmly he knew there would be some light finger bruises afterward. He was so far gone at that point, though, he couldn't stop; between the incredible heat and tightness he found inside Justin, along with his husband's encouraging moans of ecstasy, he knew it was too late for both of them. He dove in furiously now, unable to stop himself, pounding Justin into the mattress as his body was lifted off the bed, only to slide up toward the headboard each time he plunged back in.

"God!" Justin cried out as he held on for dear life; even though his husband was insatiable when it came to their fucking, this was taking it to a new level of intensity. Despite Brian's typical outer shell of confidence and bravado he displayed in public for others, he knew he must be attempting to release all the tension and stress he was feeling over the thought of working so closely with his father as he continued to thrust in and out of him like a well-greased piston. Not that he was complaining, mind you – if this was the way Brian needed to expel some adrenalin, he was only too happy to oblige…

Brian continued to ram into Justin fiercely but knew his climax was fast approaching; the heated gel that accentuated every ridge, every tight angular curve of Justin's body was quickly causing his own body to tense up in the throes of exquisite passion. He felt an emotion akin to pride at how Justin could hold his own against his unstoppable quest for pleasure as he continued to plunge deeper and deeper into his body, making sure to hit that sweet spot that drove his husband wild every time.

Soon after, he reached down to almost violently pull at Justin's cock, stroking it firmly up and down in time with his thrusts, until his own voice broke out in a loud cry of release and he came explosively inside the tight channel, almost at the same time that he heard one more shout erupt from the slender body beneath him and felt the warm, sticky, milky substance flooding over the two of them.

For several seconds as he lay on top of Justin, the only sounds they could hear were two hearts beating rapidly as one as they strove to come down from their incredible high. Finally Brian lifted his sweaty brow to peer down into the bright blue eyes of his husband. He smirked at Justin before huskily stating, "See, I told you it wouldn't take long. You're one hot, horny little devil."

Justin snorted as Brian reluctantly pulled away and flopped onto his back like an exhausted fish after being wrestled out of the water. "Humphf," Justin retorted as he gazed over at Brian's childlike, _Who Me?, _innocent-looking face. He turned on his side to bite down playfully onto Brian's shoulder. "Give me a couple of minutes and I'll show _you_ who's horny." He knew if they had a little longer, in short order Brian would be ready to 'rock and roll' once more; even at twelve years his senior, the man was still insatiable when it came to matching his libido.

Brian grinned in agreement. "A very tempting offer, Sunshine, but I know you and I know me. If I don't get up now – not that kind of _up_," Brian added quickly as Justin smiled at the double entendre, "I won't get out of this bed in time to leave soon." He reached over to gently wipe some hair away from Justin's wet brow and take his left hand in his to kiss the wedding ring snugly nestled there on his ring finger. He stared at the metal band, still somewhat amazed that they were, indeed married, but strangely he didn't find it frightening. In fact, knowing that Justin would be there by his side for the next several months as he plodded his way through the intricacies of his father's campaign filled him with both relief and confidence.

He reluctantly released Justin's hand and twisted in the bed to get up, turning to see his husband staring up at him thoughtfully. "What?" he asked softly, curling his lips under. "You need a shower, too?"

Justin smiled fondly at him as he stretched his arms languorously above his head like a sated cat and then pushed himself to sit with his back up against the headboard. "Don't tempt me," he replied. "I'll wait." Both knew if he decided to 'shower' with Brian it would only delay him even more. "I'm just… glad that you decided to do this. I think it will bring you and Fin closer together."

Brian snorted as he stood there in all his naked glory. "Maybe – or it might put us at each other's throats. Two Type A males fighting for supremacy? This could get ugly, Justin."

Justin chuckled softly. "Yeah, it could," he agreed. "But you're both big boys." He rolled his eyes as Brian raised his eyebrows and grinned. "You know what I mean," he chided him. "You're both adults – and I'm sure in your respective jobs you've both had to kiss ass and suck up to abrasive personality types." Justin shook his head, deciding he needed to come up with adjectives that didn't have sexual innuendos attached. At least he had Brian's attention, though. "I just mean you both know how to be professionals here and in the interim hopefully it will allow you to get to know each other better. That's my wish for _both_ of you," he added a little more softly. He felt his cheeks growing hot under Brian's intense scrutiny of him, wondering if he had perhaps overstepped his bounds a little. He knew the subject of Brian's father – and his relationship with him or lack thereof – was still a sensitive topic with him. "Isn't that what YOU want in the long run, too?" he asked softly as he lifted his head to stare into Brian's eyes.

Brian twisted his mouth fondly as he looked at his sentimental husband, still persistently hoping for a happy father-son ending, at least between himself and Fin. Somehow both of them knew that would never happen with his _own_ father, unfortunately; Craig Taylor had made it perfectly clear that as long as he and Justin were together, they would never be any hope of that. At least he was confident enough in Justin's love for him to know that Justin was choosing to be with him willingly. It still didn't prevent him from feeling just the slightest bit guilty that he had played a part in the two of them never having a chance to reconcile, even if the man _was _a homophobic prick, but he would never have a reason to doubt Justin's love for him.

He walked over to place one hand under Justin's chin so he could lean down and brush a kiss across the warm mouth. He pulled back just enough to stare into the captivating blue eyes to whisper, "I guess it is," he admitted to him. "But it's too soon to make any predictions." He gave Justin's lips one more peck before he released him and stood up. "I'd better go take my shower now."

Nodding, he turned and began to walk toward the bathroom; just before he reached the doorway, however, something made him turn around and stare back into Justin's eyes, which were still locked onto his. "I love you, you know," Brian found himself uttering in a whisper in one of those unexpected times when the words tumbled out almost against his will. It was becoming easier to say them, and he knew how much Justin needed to hear them from time to time, but when he _did_ say them, they still felt slightly foreign to his tongue.

The tender, surprised smile that lit up Justin's face, though, was worth any slight feeling of discomfort as his husband whispered back, "I know…. Me, too. Me, too."

Brian nodded with an almost shy smile of his own before he turned at last and walked into the bathroom, disappearing out of Justin's sight. A few seconds later, the sounds of water streaming from their outrageously-expensive showerhead could be heard as Justin sighed and closed his eyes, taking a moment to relish in their lovemaking and Brian's rare words of endearment. Oh, Brian told him he loved him every day in his touch and his kisses, and in the way he looked at only him in that tender, soul-baring way, but he always treasured the seldom-said verbal declarations even more because he knew how hard it was for Brian to say them. He knew Brian made the attempt only because it made him happy. He stared down at the ring firmly surrounding the fourth finger of his left hand and smiled, admiring the way it threw off a prism of colors in the moonlight. Soon it would be daylight out again – a new day and a new beginning, for both Brian and his father. He fervently wished that his husband's decision to help Fin would result in what everyone wanted – a successful gubernatorial campaign, a new, vibrant change of direction for Pennsylvania, and perhaps most importantly of all, a closer bond between father and son.

* * *

_8:50 a.m. – Downtown Harrisburg – Campaign Headquarters_

Brian stepped out of the black Lincoln limousine that Fin had arranged to greet him with at the regional airport for his drive downtown to their meeting place; as the vehicle pulled away he had a chance to observe where his father's campaign was being run and he wrinkled his nose in distaste. Oh, it was neat-looking enough at least – it was a reddish-colored, narrow brick, three-story building wedged in between two other brick establishments and decorated with a white and burnt orange awning draped over the front windows and doors, as well as smaller, matching shades on the upper windows. From a cursory glance inside the large street-level windows, he couldn't tell if his father's headquarters was encased on just the first floor or on the other two floors; if the other floors were apartment units, though, that would mean the operations center for his father's campaign was woefully small. He grimaced, wondering just what he had gotten into, before he stuck his hands in his suit jacket pockets and turned to walk toward the front door that was plastered with campaign posters for the gubernatorial campaign.

"Got a five?"

Brian frowned, his hand stilled on the door handle as he heard a voice nearby; he hadn't even noticed anyone around, other than the occasional passersby who walked by him, basically ignoring his presence. He turned now to observe a scruffy-looking person – young boy apparently – sitting on the ground a few feet away with his back up against the building's front and his hands wrapped around his knees. It was hard to tell with the faded Pirates ball cap hung low over his light brown mop of hair how old he was – his face was dirty and dusty and the long-sleeved tee shirt and jeans looked like they was several sizes too large and had been yanked from a dumpster somewhere. A pair of blue eyes that surprisingly reminded him a lot of Justin's blinked back at him, wincing in the glare of the rapidly-rising sun facing him.

"Excuse me?" Brian said, not sure what the boy had said. From the looks of the kid, he appeared to be one of hundreds of runaways often found on any dingy downtown street – fuck knows he had seen enough of them over the years hanging around the Pitts – but still, he appeared awfully young to be hanging around bumming money. "What did you say?"

The boy grunted as if he thought Brian were deaf. "I said, you got a five?"

Brian snorted as he peered down at the boy through his Gucci shades. "Five fingers? Five toes?"

"Five _dollars_, you asshole," the boy snapped in a louder voice. He shook his head. "Forget it." He turned his head away from Brian as if he were dismissing a servant.

Brian smirked; for a homeless runaway, at least the kid still apparently had some pride left as well as balls. He always made it a point not to give money to any panhandler or runaway, believing it only wound up either down their throat, up their nose, or under their skin, but something about this kid made him think that perhaps he really _did_ need the money for something more legitimate like food. He didn't know what made him do it, but he found himself reaching inside his coat pocket for a ten-dollar bill he knew he had stuck there earlier after purchasing a Wall Street Journal at the airport's newsstand. "Here," he told the boy as he threw the ten spot down on the ground next to him. "A reward for your sparkling personality."

As he turned to go, he didn't catch the boy turning his head to glance in shock at what Brian had left before he stared after the departing form of the elegant man opening the storefront door and watched him disappear inside. A few seconds later, he rose to his feet and hurried down the sidewalk, straight toward the nearby Dunkin' Donuts store on the corner.


	14. Taking the Reins

_A/N: Brian finds out he's got quite a challenge on his hands; Justin and his mom meet for the first time since the honeymoon. Justin and Tony both receive an unusual request._

* * *

The first thing Brian noticed upon opening the door to his father's campaign headquarters was the constant hum of voices that assaulted him; voices on the phone, voices from huddled conversations, voices speaking over Skype. As he glanced around the large, open space filled to capacity, he scrutinized what constituted the layout and he didn't like what he saw. There was far too much chaos and disorganization clearly in evidence: papers strewn all over desks lined up face to face with each other to take the greatest advantage of the cramped space, laptops, campaign brochures and folders strewn seemingly random patterns everywhere. How could anyone possibly know what they had on their desks, much less _find_ it? If there was one thing he insisted upon at Kinnetik, despite their sometimes frenetic brainstorming sessions at times, it was that everyone kept their shit in order; otherwise, way too much time was spent on simply _finding_ things and not getting anything actually accomplished. He shook his head in disgust as he looked around, realizing he was going to have an even bigger challenge on his hands than he had initially thought. This wasn't a 'well-oiled machine' by any stretch of the imagination; it was more like a fucking train wreck waiting to happen.

The _second_ thing he noticed after he got over his initial dismay about the lack of organization was the monstrously large, white vinyl campaign poster with blue and red trim hanging directly across from the entrance door above what he assumed was a reception desk. It showed a shot of his father from the shoulders up wearing a smart, tailored black suit with thin, light-gray pinstripes running through it, a crisp white shirt, gray silk tie, matching gray handkerchief in the jacket pocket, and for politically-correct, good measure, a small American flag pin on his left lapel. He had to admit that his father looked assertive and confident in his designer apparel, just the image he should be projecting as the state's next governor; unfortunately, though, his attempt at looking in charge and ready to take on the responsibilities of the office was totally negated by the cheesy slogan in large red letters with blue trim prominently written above his photo: _WIN WITH FIN._

Brian squinted his eyes at the poster and cringed; was that the best they could come up with for his father's campaign slogan? Holy shit. A third-grader could have done better. He sighed softly; what was he getting himself into?

He was spared further feelings of hesitancy as he saw a side door open and his father emerging; he was casually dressed in an open-necked, collarless light-gray dress shirt and a pair of navy linen pants. He noticed Fin's face light up as he recognized him; for some odd reason, he found himself momentarily pleased by that but didn't stop to wonder why. It was certainly a different response than what Jack Kinney would give him, though, whenever they were reunited; normally _his_ reaction would be either one of disdain and indifference, or occasionally relief when Brian became an adult, because he knew his 'money train' had showed up once more to replenish his drinking account and pay off his gambling debts.

"Brian!" Fin rushed up to his son as several pairs of eyes suddenly snapped up to stare at the man they had heard so much about lately in the news; it seemed Fin had been spending a great deal of time regaling his campaign workers with his son's great acumen as an advertising genius and now according to the rumor mill, he was going to revitalize their campaign as its manager. Everyone, understandably then, was quite curious by this time to see the great Brian Kinney in action to see if he indeed lived up to his reputation, although more than a few questioned the man's qualifications for what would be an extremely critical part of their endeavor.

The two men shook hands as everyone tried to steal surreptitious glances at the handsome pair. Even a complete stranger would have had no trouble discerning that the two were related: both tall and lean, same body type, with chiseled, angular features. Same type of nose and generous mouth with a strong jaw. Except for the difference in the eye color and the slight graying around Fin's temples displaying the first vestiges of being older, the two could have been a younger and older twin of each other.

Fin firmly took hold of Brian's sleeve to steer him over toward the room from which he had just emerged. "Let's talk for a few minutes privately," he requested as Brian nodded and followed his father over to the door, feeling the heated gazes of several pairs of eyes on them as Fin opened it to reveal a surprisingly spacious separate office. As his father ushered him inside and closed the door, Brian noted with satisfaction that unlike the chaotic environment in the other room, this space was neatly furnished and Fin's desk – a large, golden-oak, wooden one – was devoid of mess and clutter; a simple metal in-and-out box stood vigil in the upper left-hand corner with only a heavy, clear, vinyl protective pad draped on the surface and a sleek, black landline phone on the opposite corner. As Fin led him closer to his desk, he could see some papers neatly tucked underneath the protective pad as his father motioned for him to sit down in one of the two black leather chairs facing him.

"Coffee?"

Brian shook his head. "Already had my fill, thanks." He glanced around his father's 'home away from home.' The room, except for the desk and chairs, was fairly sparse, especially compared to his father's lavish office suite at the capitol office building. There were no pictures on the walls, no bookshelves, no 'homey' touches, except for a small photo frame behind Fin's desk where a narrow credenza lay in front of a couple of medium-sized, bare, dusty-looking windows; Brian noticed with grudging respect that the photo was one of his father and Tony taken at Britin when he and Justin had gotten married. At least his father wasn't apparently trying to hide his relationship with his partner anymore. A typical, nondescript black coffeemaker sat on the other end of the credenza with a couple of plain-looking, Kelly-green ceramic coffee mugs. As if reading his thoughts, Fin replied, "It's not much as far as decorating goes. I don't really spend a lot of time here – I'm mainly at my other office."

Brian nodded as he returned his attention back to his father. "Understandable," he responded simply, still feeling a little awkward around this man who he had no idea even existed until a few months ago.

Fin took a sip of coffee from the mug on his desk as he leaned back in his chair and eyed his son thoughtfully. He still hadn't been around Brian enough to be able to accurately read his thoughts by the expression on his face, but he thought he detected a hint of reticence there. "You seem concerned about something."

"Damn right I am," Brian told him curtly, staring unflinchingly into his father's face from across the desk.

Fin started; well, his son was direct if nothing else. He actually respected that; if he was going to successfully be elected Governor, the last thing he wanted or needed was a campaign manager who was a brown-nosing suck up and beat around the bush. "Okay," he responded calmly. "What about?"

"From what I've seen so far the entire room out there is in fucking chaos," Brian growled. "You barely have enough room to walk around; and there's shit all over the desks. And who came up with that sophomoric campaign slogan? _Win with Fin_?"

Fin grimaced; that had been his thoughts exactly the first time he had seen it, but he had been assured it was short, to the point, 'catchy' and effective. "You don't mince words, do you?"

"Isn't that what you're looking for? Because if you _aren't_, then let's end this fucking parade down the primrose garden right now."

Fin shook his head as he placed his coffee mug down on the desk. "Hell, no," he assured his son. "I want an unvarnished opinion from you… No matter _how_ painful," he added dryly.

Brian turned one side of his mouth up in the hint of a smile and nodded, satisfied at least for the time being. "Okay. First we're going to get some sort of organization out of all that chaos out there – at the very least we need some filing system in place. You're going to look a little foolish when you're unable to compose a statement for an issue you're being asked to comment on because you can't find the reference material to study first. Second, we're going to redirect the flow of all those desks out in the main area so there's actually room to navigate around in. And third, I'm going to come up with a kick-ass campaign pitch for your election that will sound a hell of a lot better than _Win with Fin._ I'm going to tell your campaign staff exactly what I expect out of them; if they fail to deliver, they will be out of here quicker than you can say 'Don't let the door hit you in the ass on the way out.' Going forward, I will be available on a daily basis, either in person or through my cell phone; I have temporarily distanced myself from my company while two of my more trusted employees control the day-to-day operations of Kinnetik, so I expect any problems or suggestions to go through me before any action plans are implemented."

Fin smiled as he curled his lips under, secretly proud of this take-charge man who was his son. _His son… _He was still trying to wrap his head around that concept. He was slowly getting more and more used to it, but he knew it would take some time before it truly sunk in and he – and his son – felt comfortable in their family roles. As always, Tony had been right, though; Brian was going to be the perfect man for the role of campaign manager – he could feel it. If they needed to discharge some useless ballast in the process, then so be it. "Agreed – you're in charge here."

Brian nodded cryptically as he stood up. "Then where do you want to meet? I'm assuming you only have the first floor leased?" Fin nodded in confirmation; just as Brian feared. "Any chance you could get more space upstairs or is it occupied?" Once his father's campaign got going in full swing, he couldn't imagine being able to properly run his campaign from this relatively tiny space on the first floor.

Fin frowned. "To be honest, I'm not sure; Adam's always handled those sorts of things."

"Adam?"

"Adam Stewart. He's the son of my executive assistant, Regina. He worked as an intern for one of my colleagues a few years ago after he got a master's degree in political science with a minor in business administration from the University of Chicago, and came highly recommended from Representative Gadson. And of course, Regina's been with me for ten years now and has always done an excellent job for me, so I took that into consideration as well. I hired him a few months ago to help handle the logistical aspects of the campaign. We can ask him what he knows about it."

Brian nodded, wondering how much political nepotism had played a part in hiring this Stewart person. From what he had seen of the first-floor layout, this guy didn't seem very savvy about logistics at all to him, and he didn't like the fact that he apparently wasn't reporting much information back to his boss. No matter, though – he would definitely make sure going forward that all such information was relayed to him on a regular basis. "Point him out to me after the meeting and I'll ask him; from now on, he'll be expected to provide me updates on a regular basis, and any logistical decisions will need to go through me; I don't want any surprises along the way. If there's one thing I despise, it's being hit broadside." He stared into his father's face. "In fact, I want to meet with all your key advisors after the meeting to tell them what I expect of them and to go over some strategy. I'll also need a full financial report on your campaign's balance sheet; I need to know what we're dealing with." Fin nodded his agreement as Brian straightened up his suit jacket and said, "Okay, then, let's get this show on the road."

"One more thing before we meet with my staff, Brian." His son arched his eyebrows in a silent question as he asked, "How do you think we should handle our relationship?"

Brian shook his head. "What do you mean?"

"How open should we be about us being father and son?"

Brian snorted. "It's really no one's fucking business _what_ are relationship is, Fin, but do you really think it's a big surprise by now? It's pretty much been splashed all over the web and the papers anyway, so it's not like a secret any longer; I'm sure it's even _less_ of a secret among your own staff." He raked his teeth across his upper lip thoughtfully before deciding, "I don't see where it has any bearing on my doing the job; I'm not going to go around denying it if it's brought up, but our relationship has nothing to do with my overseeing your campaign, so I say we leave it out of the conversation for now."

Fin mulled over his son's opinion for a moment before he responded; he was no longer going to deny his sexuality, nor was he going to keep his and Brian's relationship a secret, but there was a difference between secrecy and flaunting his new-found openness regarding his sexual orientation. "I agree," he said finally as he nodded; he stood up and stretched out his hand toward the door. "Let's get started then."

* * *

_Dee Jay's Barbecue Ribs & Grill – Weirton, West Virginia – Same Time_

Justin smiled and waved as his mother walked into the restaurant; he couldn't believe he hadn't seen his mom since the wedding. But between his mother being away in Philadelphia for a few days for a realtors' seminar and Brian's crazy schedule lately surrounding Fin's campaign, time had flown by since they had gotten back and before he knew it two weeks had gone by. With Brian firmly entrenched in his new role as campaign manager as well as owner of Kinnetik, Justin decided to make a point of finally meeting his mother for breakfast.

"Hey, Mom," Justin stood up and greeted her warmly as the two hugged. His mother smiled tenderly back at him as she placed a quick peck on his cheek before taking a seat opposite him in the booth.

"You got a little bit of a tan, Justin," she observed as she stared over at her son. "With your skin, you have to be careful about that…"

"Mom," Justin huffed, miffed that she still thought of him as a child in some ways.

Jennifer grinned. "Sorry, Honey, once a son, always a son." Justin grinned in understanding as she reached over to give his hand a squeeze and study him. "The little bit of color looks good on you, though," she admitted. "I never thought Ireland had a lot of sun. And even if it _did_, I never thought the two of you would be spending much time outdoors."

Justin colored even more at that remark but not for the same reason. "M-o-m… We did a _lot_ of things outdoors on our honeymoon… In addition to _that_." He reached under the table to pluck a thick, navy-blue, leather photo album from the seat next to him and lay it on top of the table. "I have proof," he explained as he slid the album over toward her.

"Are you sure you took enough pictures, Sweetheart?" she kidded him as she opened up the book to begin leafing through it as Justin grinned.

He shrugged. "I figured this was the only honeymoon to Ireland I would ever get – I wanted to make sure I had plenty of photos as proof. Besides, you know me; I never miss an opportunity for new sketch ideas." In addition to the unbelievable locales Brian had found for them to stay in, along with all the adventures they had had, he figured he would wind up with a multitude of ideas for paintings, and he had been right. He had already begun a couple of abstract paintings based on the incredible sunset they had enjoyed during their dinner on the beach, as well as the wonderful design elements from the Q Hotel. Naturally, the best shots of all he planned on using from their trip involved a certain dangerously sexy man posing nude in front of a roaring waterfall; God, just the thought of that day was making him hard right now. Of course, being the sentimental person that he was, the photos were also a wonderful way to commemorate the fabulous time he and the man he loved had had on their honeymoon, just the two of them. Something told him with Brian's new job as Fin's campaign manager, their opportunities to truly be alone in absolute privacy would be sorely lacking in the next few months. Hell, he wasn't even sure if he would even _see_ Brian for long spurts of time.

As they nursed their coffee and juice, Jennifer spent several minutes glancing through her son's honeymoon travelogue, in awe of all that Brian had planned for her son. She shouldn't have really been surprised, though, by now; she knew without a doubt how deeply Brian loved Justin. It was nice, though, to see proof of it and to see how happy her son appeared to be as he excitedly talked about everything they had done during their trip.

At last, she flipped the album closed and glanced across at her only son. "Well," she exclaimed with a smile. "That was quite a trip, if I do say so myself."

Justin's eyes sparkled as he smiled back at her, recalling all the glorious things they had done. He sighed. "Yeah, it was great," he agreed. "But you know the best part of it all? Having Brian all to myself, with no distractions, including Kinnetik or political complications."

Their conversation was placed on hold for a minute as their waitress appeared for their order. As she left, Jennifer arched her brow at her son. "_Political complications?_ I assume you're talking about your father-in-law's campaign."

Justin nodded. "You know, it's still kind of strange to even think about _having_ a father-in-law." He grimaced. "At least _Brian's_ father is turning out to be supportive of him. In fact, he's asked him to be his campaign manager; that's why I have a feeling our private time is about to be almost nonexistent, at least for the next several months."

"Wow, I wasn't aware of that," Jennifer told him. "When did _this _happen?"

"Brian's in Harrisburg this morning, in fact, to conduct his first official meeting with Fin's staff. He just agreed to do it the other day."

Jennifer eyed her son across the table. "How do you feel about Brian doing that?"

Justin shrugged as he admitted, "I actually encouraged him." He smiled. "Well, Tony and I talked about it and we both thought Brian would be perfect for the job with his advertising experience. After all, he almost managed to get that asshole Stockwell elected." He winced slightly at the awful possibility of that actually coming to fruition before continuing. "Brian doesn't let anyone make up his mind for him, though, you know that, Mom. His father asked him to do it, and after weighing all the pros and cons, he finally decided it was too big an opportunity to pass up. You know Brian – he sees it as the ultimate challenge – getting the first openly gay candidate for governor elected." He paused for a few seconds before adding, "You know who's running against him, don't you?"

She shook her head sheepishly. "Actually, no. Between the seminar and all the house showings I've had lately I haven't been keeping up too much with the news. Who is it?"

"Richard Turner." He noticed his mother's blank look before he added, "Dick Turner? Turner Transportation? Ring a bell now?" He stared at his mother as she went through a mental checklist; he could tell the exact moment that it all clicked as her brown eyes widened slightly in recognition. "That's the guy whose company used to deliver electronics to Craig's store. Tall, burly, garrulous type; _too_ garrulous for my taste, almost like he was working too hard at being TOO friendly. _He's _Fin's opponent?" She had met Turner personally on a few occasions when she was helping Craig with his books several years ago; his normal bookkeeper had quit unexpectedly when the woman's husband had been transferred out of town for his job and had left him in the lurch. Fortunately, she had taken some accounting courses in high school and had proven to have an affinity with numbers; that, in addition to her knowledge regarding Craig's books, had enabled her to help out for a weeks until Justin's father was able to find a replacement. The times in which she had met the man, however, left her feeling like he was trying just a little too hard to insinuate himself into your lives. While she was surprised that the man was running for Governor, in a way she shouldn't have been; from what she had gleaned about him on social occasions, Turner was quite active in the Republican Party and was never shy about making his opinions known. In fact, he and her ex-husband Craig seemed to hit it off quite well when they were together, sharing a lot of the same values and political views while they told each other ribald jokes and slapped each other on the backs as they drunk like a fish. It was ironic they held beliefs she could never share with them, however; God knows she had undergone quite a bit of ribbing from Craig's friends regarding her more liberal values when they had first met in college. It was a wonder that the two of them had ever fallen in love and gotten married, in fact; perhaps it was proof that in some cases opposites _do_ attract. In their case, however, that had proven to be temporary, especially once his true colors came out regarding their beautiful, brave son who was thankfully alive, well, and happy and presently sitting across from her.

Justin nodded at her in confirmation. "That's the guy. How fucking ironic is that?"

She shook her head. "Well, I admit that's kind of a surprise; he never really came across to me as having any big political ambitions. But he was never hesitant about voicing his opinion to others, and from what your father used to tell me, he had pretty big pockets, so I suspect he won't have any problems getting his campaign financed. Knowing Brian, I'm sure he'll check the guy's background out thoroughly at any rate. Personally, I think Brian's a fabulous choice to be Fin's campaign manager; he's creative, assertive, unorthodox, and doesn't take any bullshit from anyone – just the right type for that job."

Justin smiled. "Yeah, I know," he replied as Jennifer laughed. "I just hope he doesn't scare everyone away. They don't know what's about to hit them."

"Hurricane Brian," she replied with a conspiratorial tone. "But at least hurricanes are good at clearing out the debris."

As the waitress came back with their entrees, Justin nodded. "I can't wait to get a full report on the collateral damage when he gets home."

Mother and son shared a congenial silence as they started in on their meals for a few minutes; as Justin lifted his glass to take a sip of his iced tea, he couldn't help the question that emerged. Truthfully it had been on his mind for some time now, but all this talk about Turner had merely churned it back up to the surface. "Mom?"

"Yeah, Honey?"

Justin stirred his teaspoon in his glass for several seconds and stared down at the red-and-white checked tablecloth before asking softly, "Does he ever ask about me?" He knew he sounded like a wimpy, needy little kid, but for some reason he had to know. He knew she and his father engaged in stilted but polite conversation whenever he came over to pick up Molly for his visits with her, which only served to make the hurt even more acute knowing that he kept in regular touch with his sister but had nothing whatsoever to do with him. _Why the fuck should I even care_? Justin thought to himself silently as he waited for his mom to reply. But truthfully, despite everything his father had done to him – and to Brian, which he considered practically unforgivable – the man was still his father for good or for bad. He wasn't sure if his chaotic, contradictory feelings were bubbling up to the surface lately because of Brian's strengthening relationship with his real father, or Fin's fervent attempts to become closer to his son, but for some reason he found himself thinking more and more about his own father lately. A lot of it was still so fresh, so raw and painful even now, but some of it – those memories of long ago – they were still fond ones. What had happened to make everything go so terribly wrong? How could his father have just turned off his feelings for him just because he found out he was gay? Was it that black and white? Could his father really turn his back on him and break things off that cleanly without ever looking back? Even now, even after everything that had happened to him, even with him and Brian being so happy together, those questions still haunted him. He slowly lifted his eyes to stare over at his mother, noticing with a sinking heart that her face already betrayed what she was about to say.

"I'm sorry, Sweetheart," she told him. "I won't lie to you. I try to bring your name up – to let him know how you are and how proud I am of everything you've accomplished – but he always brushes me off and tells me he doesn't want to hear it."

Justin swallowed the painful lump in his throat and nodded. "I didn't expect anything else," he told her in a whisper as he took a deep breath. And he hadn't; he hadn't _expected_ anything more, but he secretly hoped that perhaps somewhere his father had somehow had a change of heart and realized that _who_ someone loved didn't make them a different person, didn't change who they were inside. Well, perhaps in his father's case, that wasn't true; his father seemed to have changed into a totally different person once he had found out he was gay. His father had always been an intense, driven man – he _had_ to be to succeed so well in his business, which was constantly battling big-box competitors – but before Justin had admitted to being gay, at least he had appeared to be a loving, interested father; busy at times but never too busy to listen to what he had to say, to find out what he was doing in his life. Of course, that had been before he had realized that Justin had serious dreams of trying to make it as an artist rather than striving for a more lucrative, 'realistic' job in business. Until that time, he had actually praised his artwork, had encouraged him to explore his creativity, as long as it was just a 'hobby.' Once he had found out that Justin was not only seriously contemplating an art career, but he was also gay, it was as if a totally different father had emerged. Gone was the man who liked to take him fishing, camping, boating. Gone was the father he used to work on cars with and play scratch basketball with. Gone was the man who had been so proud of him when he come home with a first prize ribbon in the school's art show or a report card with A's and B's in his junior high classes. In his place was a man he didn't recognize anymore; an inflexible, bigoted man. Perhaps, then, it was time to mourn briefly for the father he had lost and move on with his life. He was happy with Brian, happier than he had even thought possible, and he had a mother and sister who accepted and loved him for who and what he was. That should be enough.

"Justin…" She wanted to reassure her son that his father still loved him; deep down she felt that was true, but he had buried those feelings so deeply by now that it was impossible to verify if she was right or not.

He shook his head. "It's okay, Mom," he said, averting his gaze lest it betray his true feelings. "Let's just forget it. _I _have." He only wished that was the truth, though. He lifted has gaze to smile slightly in reassurance at her as he deliberately skirted around the subject. "Tell me how your job's going."

Jennifer studied her son quietly for several seconds, knowing he was telling her a lie; there had been too many good times Craig and her son had shared as he was growing up to simply dismiss all of it over what had happened. You didn't just erase a lifetime of memories overnight, especially with someone as tenderhearted as her son. _Damn you, Craig_, she thought scornfully as she proceeded to answer her son's question, knowing his query was just a way to deflect the conversation. _Our son deserves better._

* * *

_Same Time – Fin's Campaign Headquarters_

Several pairs of eyes were on the two lookalike, handsome men as Fin and Brian emerged from behind the closed door of his private office. Brian glanced around the cramped confines of the room, hurriedly deciding on the reception desk as his temporary soundboard as he walked over and eyed the skinny blond beanpole of a man sitting in a chair behind it, the "_Win with Fin_" campaign banner above him. Brian winced at the slogan again, deciding that was one of the first things he was going to change; just the notion of actually _saying_ those words in a television ad made him want to puke.

"I need this," Brian told the young man, who appeared to be in his early twenties. "Up."

The man eyed him warily through his pair of round, wire-rimmed granny glasses as Fin walked up behind him, splitting his gaze between his boss and this other man who was practically the spitting image of the senator.

"Uh, Steve," Fin stated, "I'd like you to meet Brian Kinney, my new campaign manager." Bowing to Brian's advice, he didn't introduce him as his son, although it certainly couldn't be a secret anymore – after all, their photos, family connection, and even their sexual orientation had been splattered all over the newspapers and the web by now. But it wasn't really relevant at the moment, either – what was important was that Brian be established as the authority for his campaign and they get everything in motion immediately. "Brian… This is Steve Jacobs – he's one of my campaign aides."

Brian scrutinized the young man who barely looked old enough to vote as he nodded curtly. "Jacobs. If you'll park yourself somewhere else, I need that chair."

Jacobs bit back a retort, wondering just who this man thought he was, as he slowly rose from his chair and moved aside. He watched as the chair he just vacated was promptly used as a makeshift ladder, as Brian stood up on the chair and then climbed up on top of the sturdy desk.

Fin watched in amusement as his son deftly stepped up on top of the desk and reached his hand down to him. "Come on," Brian prodded him. "Time for a little tough love among the masses."

Fin smirked as he reached to grab his son's hand and stepped up to join him. Yes, he had no doubt that if anyone could put this ragtag group of followers together into a sense of cohesiveness, it would be his son. He watched as Brian put his fingers up to his lips and blew; the sound of his whistling pierced through the room like a knife cutting through butter and the room immediately quieted down as everyone turned to stare at the two bookends standing together on the desk; the large, vinyl campaign banner directly behind their candidate almost made it look like they were viewing triplets.

Nonplussed, Brian studied the sea of faces staring up at them; it never bothered him to be the center of attention. In fact, just the opposite – he relished in it, whether he was at an awards banquet, at Kinnetik, at Babylon, or merely walking down the street getting ogled by admirers. He was at the point now, though, where he didn't crave it as much; he didn't feel like he had anything to prove anymore. As his father began to speak, though, to introduce him, he took the opportunity to scour the workers gathered below. Did this haphazard group have the wherewithal to get his father elected Governor? He had no idea yet what their capabilities were, but he intended to quickly find out. He had meant what he had said to his father; if he didn't think they were carrying their weight they had no fucking business being here. Fin couldn't afford to coddle campaign workers who weren't at the top of their game; they were getting started later than they should have in the first place. The election was only a few months away; it was time to either put up or shut up. He nodded over to his father silently, indicating he should start – after all, _he_ was the candidate. He was more like the engineer; Fin was the train.

All eyes were now on the pair as Fin addressed his workers. "Good Morning, everyone," he called out to his followers. "I appreciate you all coming out early this morning to meet with me on such short notice. This is an important day in the campaign; maybe _the_ most important day, because I'd like to introduce all of you to the man who is going to re-energize our mission and help realize our goal, my new campaign manager, Brian Kinney. To streamline procedure, Brian will be the point man to go to with any questions you may have regarding how the campaign is being run; if you have any concerns, you are to go to him first. Brian, in turn, will discuss any important issues with me. After our general meeting here is over, Brian and I will be meeting with my key staff members for a strategy session." You could have heard the proverbial pin drop, bathed in an almost eerie silence as Fin said, "Brian?"

Dressed impeccably as usual in a tailor-made, dark-gray suit with a matching navy-blue silk shirt and tie, Brian gazed unflinchingly into the sea of faces staring curiously at the 'upstart' about to address them. "To answer the question some of you are no doubt asking, no, I am not your typical campaign manager. I have not had extensive political experience running a campaign and truthfully, I don't give a flying fuck whether or not we all become best buds or not. I haven't had years of experience wiping the asses of politicians and sucking up to them in hopes of being able to cash in on it later, and I don't have a bunch of lobbyists in my back pocket ready to throw unlimited wads of cash our way. What I _have _had is years of experience in advertising, which is precisely what is needed here, because I'm being entrusted with selling a product – Fin O'Connor, your candidate for Governor. I can market a product in my fucking sleep, and from what I've seen so far, this campaign is in dire need of a complete makeover."

Fin gazed out into his workers' faces, noting a mixture of resentment, curiosity and doubt. He figured his decision to choose Brian as his campaign manager wouldn't sit too well with some of his staff; while many of his crew were young – in their twenties – and were more open to radical ideas and new ways of doing things, a large number of his other workers were more his age and more set in their ways; they had been brought up in the standard method of promoting a candidate – establish their platform, milk the lists of devoted party voters, schmooze with the movers and shakers in the business world in hopes of prying some hard-worn cash out of their soft, non-calloused hands. That was the way politics always worked in their eyes; to them, comparing their candidate to a product that needed to be marketed like so much toothpaste, therefore, would tend not to be met with the same degree of receptiveness that his younger staff might likely embrace. Fin could almost look at each face and, based on their age range, tell whether they were going to like Brian's style of management or were going to resent it. But he had made his decision – he felt his campaign needed a shot in the arm and his son was just the right person to do it. If he happened to lose some of his staff along the way, then, so be it. He turned his attention back to his son, who was working the crowd like a three-ringed circus master.

"The first thing we're going to do is rebrand our product." Brian rolled his eyes as he glanced back at the large campaign banner behind him. "And Number One on the list is getting rid of this god-awful campaign slogan, _Win with Fin_. That might have worked back in the fifties when your grandparents were voting, but it's not going to cut it here. Does it rhyme? Yes. Does it suck as an effective indication of what Fin will do for the state if he's elected? Yes. It's got to go. We need something edgy, succinct, and unique, not the same old tripe. And second, I'm going to run a transparent campaign – no beating around the bush, no political doubletalk where you talk out of both sides of your mouth and it takes an hour to say something but it doesn't mean a damn thing. Third, we are going to make Fin O'Connor a household name, which means he will be travelling throughout the state to get his platform across to every registered voter. The more exposure to him and his ideas and goals, the better chance we have of getting the majority of voters to cast a yes vote for him come November. And we will be using every available method of communication out there, especially all the internet socialization sites and phone apps." Brian gazed around the room, noting once again with disdain how the desks were almost stacked on top of each other, papers, folders, phones and laptops covering practically every inch of the available work space. "Finally, I'll be working with the staff member in charge of logistics to see if we can't get some fucking breathing space in this room; not only is the present arrangement ill-conceived but totally non-conducive to getting anything productive done in here. God help us if we should have to answer any inquiries regarding Fin's position on key issues."

He didn't notice the man in charge of room dynamics, Adam Stewart, glaring at him from the back of the room, not at all pleased that his choices and decisions were being questioned as well as ridiculed by a relative, arrogant upstart. He seethed silently as Brian stared down at the hushed group, almost daring them to refute what he had just said. "As soon as this meeting is adjourned, I want to meet with all the key staff members in the Senator's private office. Are there any questions?"

It was just as he figured; the room remained strangely silent, even though not more than ten minutes ago it had sounded like a hive of bees buzzing. It shouldn't have surprised him, though; having worked in offices for several years now, he was well aware of how people normally didn't complain or express concerns until meetings broke up and they could complain in private. "Very well, then; I'd like to meet with the Senator's key staff members in his office in five minutes."

"Thank you, everybody," Fin told his workers. "Adam, Wanda, Kirk, Sara, Don, and Mark… Five minutes in my office, okay?" He stepped down from the desk onto the chair, jumping down onto the floor as Brian shortly joined him. As the two of them stood side-by-side, and the room slowly resumed its previous volume of activity, Fin bestowed a lopsided grin on his son, stating softly as he leaned in while they walked toward his private office, "I'm getting the distinct impression that they feel like an eighteen-wheeler just ran over them."

Brian followed his father inside the other room, shutting the door behind them as he watched Fin walk over and pick up a bottle of Beam this time. Brian shook his head as he held the bottle out toward him. Pouring a shot into a stout, round glass, Fin walked over and sat down opposite his son behind his desk.

"I actually went easy on them," Brian reported to his father. "But the gloves are off; I don't have time to worry about whether I'm bruising their egos; I'm not concerned about whether I'm following standard rules of campaign etiquette here, Fin. I'm going to do what it takes to win this thing; I'm not used to losing and I'm not going to start now."

Fin twisted his mouth up into a grin. "I would expect nothing less from the best advertising executive in Pittsburgh." He couldn't help the swell of pride that rose up inside him; God knows he had followed typical, standard operating procedure before in winning his previous re-election campaigns to the Senate, and he had been quite successful at it. But that had been a different time and a different place; it hadn't taken a lot of work or convincing to win over constituents who had become accustomed to him going to bat for them as their state senator, and voters typically were for the most part complacent when it came to voting – they normally just went with the flow and voted back in the person they were the most familiar with. This time, though, it was different; he wasn't running for re-election to a position he had held for a decade. He wasn't just running for office in a district that knew his platform and his record inside out. No, this was a statewide campaign, an effort to convince voters who really knew nothing about him that he was capable of and best qualified to represent them as their next governor. The only problem was, they _did_ know 'something' about him – they knew he was gay. It would be up to both him and his son to convince the mainly conservative element in the state that his sexual orientation was totally irrelevant to his ability to effectively serve as their governor. He was confident that if anyone could do that, it would be his think-outside-the-box son.

"Pittsburgh, my ass," he heard his son respond smugly. "Kinnetik had the best sales figures of any agency in the state last quarter," he verified. It had been sweet revenge, too, when Ted had divulged that self-satisfying fact to him; for the past year, he and his old agency, Vanguard, has been running neck and neck in total sales. For the first time, though, he had finally surpassed his old employer by almost a million dollars in the past quarter and he had gotten an indescribable amount of pleasure out of that fact. He wasn't going to tell his father, but he _did_ have some doubts that Kinnetik would be able to maintain that pace for the coming quarter with him taking over this campaign. He had enormous faith in both Cynthia and Ted to keep things running smoothly, and had no intention of totally giving up the reins to his company while he was embroiled in his new role, but he was still somewhat doubtful with him stepping back from day-to-day operations that they would be able to keep up their current volume and continue to best his biggest rival. It wouldn't be the first time that Brian faced a financial challenge, though, and came out victorious; ironically if it hadn't been for that asshole Stockwell, he would have never had the balls to strike out on his own and create Kinnetik in the first place. He had emerged bigger and badder eventually from that fiasco, and he would this time, too.

Fin smiled at him in surprise. "That's fantastic, Brian! I didn't know." Brian felt himself warming under his approval; it felt good to actually be complimented by his father, his _real_ father; fuck knows he had never had that happen with his _adoptive _father before. Not quite sure just yet how to properly respond to his father when he was praised about something, he was about to issue a simple _thank you_ when he heard someone knocking on the office door.

"Come in," Fin called out as the door opened and the members of his core staff began to filter in. Now they could finally get down to some serious business.

Brian studied the six men and women who represented the key players in his father's campaign; he could tell they were sizing him up as well as he looked at them from his leather chair. He motioned over to the couch and two overstuffed chairs nearby. "Have a seat, ladies and gentlemen; now the _real_ work begins."

* * *

_Late Afternoon – Britin_

Justin was in one of those moods where he liked to listen to music as he painted; depending upon what sort of piece he was working on, sometimes he liked complete silence, feeling the need for introspection and contemplation as he applied slow, thoughtful, deliberate strokes to a somber, dramatic piece. Other times, like today, he craved music that evoked the emotion he was trying to portray in his art. Today, he was listening to a slow tune by Maroon 5 as he carefully brushed some amber brown onto his canvas. Eventually, the piece, commissioned for display at a charity event being held to benefit AIDS research, would hopefully create in the viewer a sense of cautionary optimism that eventually the dreaded disease that had inflicted Ben and Vic, as well as other friends of his, would be cured in their lifetime.

Standing there with his back to his studio door, one hand on his hip and the other hand holding the horsehair brush, he jumped slightly as the music abruptly ended. He whirled around in surprise to see Brian standing there; he had been so absorbed in his painting, his concentration and the music playing that it had effectively disguised his husband's return. He smiled in pleasure as Brian gazed tenderly back at him, the relief at being home apparent in his face.

"Brian." The blond hurriedly walked over and plopped the wet paintbrush down in a partially-filled sink of water in the metal utility tub nearby before he rushed over to his husband and wound his hands around his neck. "I'm glad you're home," he told him, smiling as he studied the handsome, tired-looking face; he watched as his husband's expression softened just a bit as he looked into his eyes. "You look beat," he observed, noticing the wrinkled creases around Brian's eyes and his haggard countenance. "How did it go?"

Brian slid his arms around Justin's waist and laid his head on the top of his husband's shoulder for a few seconds, inhaling the sweet scent of the blond and the slightly woodsy, familiar scent of Justin's shampoo as he briefly closed his eyes in relief; God, it felt so good to be back home and in this man's arms again! It was almost as if a two-ton weight had just been lifted from him as the stress of the day slowly ebbed away. He lifted his head to gaze into the concerned, soft blue eyes peering up at him and couldn't help leaning in for a brief kiss; well, at least brief compared to what their _normal_ greeting was. He smiled dryly as he raised one hand to cradle it against the pale, slightly fuzzed skin of Justin's cheek and lightly stroked it. "Well, I don't think any of his staff is going to volunteer to be president of my fan club anytime soon," he joked. "But I think they definitely have a clear idea of what I expect from them now."

Justin laughed softly. "I can only imagine," he deadpanned. "How many were left alive when you got done chewing their asses out?"

Brian grinned. "Well, at least they had enough balls not to up and quit while I was still there. I'll have to check with Fin tomorrow to see how many dropouts he had afterward. Besides," he added huskily, "I reserve ass-chewing for only one man now."

Justin blushed before he asked, "Was it that bad?"

The brunet sighed. "Fuck, Justin, you have _no _idea. His headquarters is stuck on the main floor of this narrow, old, brick building on the outskirts of Harrisburg; I could barely get inside it before I started bumping up against everything. There are desks around every available space, papers all over the place, no filing system for retrieving anything – it's a fucking organizational nightmare! I had a talk with the logistics manager while I was there and found out the space right above them is actually available for lease – I'm having the guy contact the landlord today to see how much it would cost to rent out the second floor, also, for Fin's headquarters. There's no fucking way I can run an organized campaign with the chaos in there! And my God – could I use your artistic skills! You want to hear what the profound, thought-provoking slogan was that they came up with for my father's gubernatorial campaign?" As Justin silently nodded his head and raised his eyebrows in question, Brian grimaced as he repeated the schmaltzy slogan: "_Win…With…Fin_." As he said the disdainful words, he raised his right hand in the air and pretended to write the words out invisibly, cringing as he did so; the tacky phrase sounded even worse when he said it out loud.

Justin snorted at the disgusted look on Brian's face; it definitely left no room for misinterpretation. "It does sound kind of juvenile," he commented as he slowly ruffled the soft auburn hair at the back of Brian's neck in an attempt to relieve his husband of some of his stress.

Brian shook his head in disgust as he replaced his hands at the back of Justin's waist. "That's an understatement," he said. "They have a big vinyl banner right where you see it as you go in – the thing must be at least six feet by six feet square; the photo they used for my father is okay, I guess, but you don't pay any attention to it because you're too busy looking at the ridiculous slogan right above his head! I made them take it down before I left – I figure we can always use it as a tarp later after the election's over."

Justin laughed. "Well, it _would _come in handy if we ever decide to enclose the back patio here. Or I can always use it as a drop cloth."

Brian grinned at him as he pulled him closer. "Well, either use would serve a better purpose for it. I've got it rolled up out in the garage if you need an extra one. Feel free to use it for whatever you see fit, but it's not going to see the light of day anymore at his campaign headquarters."

Justin playfully rubbed his nose against Brian's as he whispered, "What's the next step then?" He pulled back to gaze into Brian's eyes.

Brian let out a breath. "Well, I'm flying back out to Harrisburg tomorrow to meet up with some RV dealer that Fin told me about; I want to see about renting a couple of full-sized models for use as a sort of traveling campaign headquarters. I think it's important that Fin start canvassing the state to get his platform out there for everyone to see. The more exposure he has, the better his chances of getting his voice heard and getting elected in November." Brian's eyes twinkled as he curled his lips under. "You know that if anyone would know how to use _exposure _to its best advantage, I would." The smile of appreciation for his tongue-in-cheek joke, however, failed to get much of a response from Justin, at least the one he had been looking for. He heard his husband sigh before he asked softly, "What? I thought you _liked_ seeing me exposed."

Justin's mouth twisted up slightly in acknowledgment. "Always."

"Then what?"

Justin shook his head. "It's nothing." And it really wasn't, except it still bothered him. He knew he had encouraged Brian to help his father out, but they had just gotten back from their honeymoon, their wondrously idyllic, private honeymoon – just the two of them.

Brian slowly stroked Justin's back through his cotton t-shirt; his husband was wearing the dark red, long-sleeved shirt with the dark-gray around the shirt's round collar and shoulder pads that was one of his favorites. Of course, his personal favorite of Justin's was when he was wearing nothing at all, but that wasn't practical, at least all the time…. "Justin, I thought we weren't keeping secrets from each other anymore." Both of them already knew what happened when they kept things from each other; it tended to meet with absolutely disastrous results each time.

Justin bit his lower lip in thought for a few seconds before he sighed softly, watching what little time they would have alone quickly going down the drain. _Well, the honeymoon's officially over.._. "You're planning on traveling around the entire state in an RV WITH him, aren't you?"

"Well, it doesn't do much good to be in charge of a campaign if I'm not aware of everything's that going on, and with _that_ ragtag group he had in charge before, there's going to be a shit load of changes that need to be made. I figure with the right setup, I can be there to provide important suggestions on what Fin should and shouldn't do, at least until I'm confident he won't fuck up everything I put in place. We won't exactly be living out of a tent, by the way; hell, after I did some research online earlier today, I found out you can get an RV with a pullout living room containing a sofa bed and as many as three bedrooms; they're more like houses on wheels now. The model I'm talking about has two master bedrooms and a full-sized bathroom." Brian remembered back when he and Mikey would on occasion get to take some camping trips with Vic, who in his early days was quite the outdoor enthusiast; in the 'good old days,' a luxury camper was a popup Nimrod with netting to keep the mosquitoes out. Things had obviously come a long way since then.

Justin stuck his lower lip out; he had an idea he looked like some sulking child but he couldn't help it. "Well, with arrangements like that you won't need to come home until after the election's over; maybe you can relieve some of the sexual tension by having a few tricks blow you here and there along the way; I understand Wal-Mart lets you park in their parking lots overnight," he offered sarcastically.

Brian tried to hide the smile from appearing on his lips, knowing that his husband would just get even more upset if he thought he was making fun of him. "Well, that's a thought," he said solemnly as Justin glared up at him. "But I actually had some other way of relieving my sexual tension in mind, more like a floater position."

Brian watched as the eureka moment appeared on Justin's beautiful face; he was rewarded with an almost blinding smile as Justin scrunched up his nose in realization and it made his heart flutter. "A floater, huh; how flattering. You want me to come _with_ you?" He realized as soon as the question came out of his mouth that he had phrased that wrong and waited for the predictable response; he didn't have to wait long.

Brian smiled as he leaned down and gave his lower earlobe a playful nip. "I _always_ want you to come with me," he whispered in his ear as Justin rolled his eyes and smiled at the double entendre, despite himself. He smacked his husband's chest lightly before he spoke.

"Bri-an… I'm trying to be serious here. You want me to ride around the state in an RV with hordes of media following us around? You know how much of an intrusion that's going to be? If you think our privacy's going to be invaded during your father's campaign around our home, just wait until we're along for the ride _with_ him." _Make up your mind, Taylor – first you don't want him gone and now you don't want to accompany him? _He twisted his mouth and announced as if to a curious crowd gathered nearby, "Ladies and Gentlemen – Coming Soon to Your Homophobic Neighborhood: The Homo Hotel on Wheels! The Fag Fairymobile! The Pennsylvania Gay Grand Prix!"

Brian laughed in spite of himself. "That's very good, Justin – I think maybe I SHOULD hire you to come up with Fin's new campaign slogan! You're not fooling me, though, you know – I know you much too well; you're no more afraid of that happening than you are of turning _straight_!" He cupped Justin's cheeks tenderly and turned his husband's head slightly upward to stare into his eyes. "I stopped at Kinnetik earlier this afternoon to double check on how everything's going there and as much as I fucking hate to admit it, everything seemed to be going fine, at least for now, with Theodore and Cynthia in temporary charge; I'll be checking in with them frequently while I'm gone because I'll be needing their help in implementing a new television and print campaign, but if I'm really going to do this thing right I need to be involved with it 100%, at least for the next few months until I'm convinced Fin's campaign is heading in the right direction. Then I can maybe back off a little and control operations a little more from afar and let some of his subordinates do more of the behinds-the-scene footwork. Until then, though, I need to be where Fin is and his key staff members, and Fin needs to get his face, goals and platform out there for the voters to become familiar with him; he also needs to reassure the conservative voters that his sexual orientation isn't what they need to worry about – it's whether they want the state to go to hell in a hand basket, which will happen if someone doesn't get the fucking budget back on track. Fin's going to ask Tony if he's willing to take a temporary leave of absence from his law firm in order to travel with him; _you_ at least have the advantage of being able to keep up your painting away from home. I know it will be an inconvenience for you to have to bring all your art supplies along," Brian continued softly as Justin quietly gazed into his eyes, "but I don't want us to be apart for such a long time; at best I'd be able to fly home maybe once a week for the next few months if you decide to stay here. Isn't that better, then, than the alternative?" He didn't stop to think about how that plea had rolled off his lips so readily; before, he would have had a hard time getting his true feelings out, but now, he felt it was important for Justin to realize just how much he would miss him if they were separated for such a long length of time. He was committed now to helping his father – there was no backing out now – but not at the expense of being apart from his husband for so long. He slowly stroked Justin's pale skin with his thumbs as he waited a little anxiously for Justin's answer, hoping Justin would see that this was the best solution for them. It wasn't the ideal solution – they would still be sharing living space with his father and Tony while the other key members of his staff shared the other RV – but at least at night (and when the mood struck them during the day), they would be afforded relative privacy in their own home-away-from-home, portable bedroom. "You know I'd bust if we didn't get to fuck at least once a night – and day," he threw in for good measure, pasting his most adorable little-boy look on his face that normally got him whatever he wanted.

Justin's hand crept upward to the middle of Brian's back; their two bodies were so close together as Brian held him that he could feel their heartbeats thumping together in their chests; was it a good idea for him and Brian to travel together in a rolling version of a campaign bus? Although, he had to admit, the RV idea sounded a lot better than trolling around the state in a smoky, fume-filled motor coach with a small, cramped bathroom at the rear – not a very pleasant vision in his mind. Yes, it would be an inconvenience, and he had no doubt they would be met quite often with skepticism and outright hatred for their lifestyles; anyone who followed the news either in print or online would readily know not only who Tony was but also about his and Brian's relationship as well; in his role as his father's campaign manager, Brian would no doubt be in the spotlight frequently, and he had no intention of shrinking back into the shadows so as not to create any additional controversy, nor would either Brian or Fin ask him to. All that was out in the open now for better or worse. Besides, he wouldn't want to be part of a campaign that wasn't honest and transparent; the shadowy, evasive world of what he normally thought of when politics was involved had no place in his father-in-law's gubernatorial campaign, nor would Brian allow it, either. And he _did_ enjoy spending time with Tony; when Brian and Fin were busy strategizing or attending political rallies or planning debates between Fin and Turner, which Brian had indicated was going to be a critical part of reaching out to constituents, at least he would have someone pleasant and interesting around to keep him company. And when it was all said and done, he would much rather be with Brian than without him for the next few months. He had long ago gotten to the point that when Brian wasn't in their bed at night, he simply didn't sleep very well. He tossed and turned restlessly, constantly reaching his arms out at night in hopes of wrapping them around his husband's warm, familiar body. When Brian was out of town on business for a few days, he never felt right until he was back in his arms again. That was normally only for a few days; what would it be like to have Brian gone for days on end? It would be fucking hell, that's what it would be. Did he really have a choice, then?

He gazed into Brian's eyes as the brunet raised his brows in silent question before he nodded. "As long as I have a decent stove to cook on and we have a big enough shower to fuck in, you can deal me in, Mr. Kinney."

"Twin bed okay with you, then?" Brian asked tongue in cheek. His answer came in the form of a sharp sting to his ass. "Ow! I take it that's a no?"

"You bet your bony little ass it's a no!" Justin retorted as Brian grinned. "It has to be at least _queen_ size."

Brian chuckled. "Queen size – figures. Got it. Now what do you say we go downstairs and reacquaint ourselves with our _king-sized _bed here before we're forced to downsize?"

Justin nodded with a smile as the two kissed deeply for several seconds before, hand in hand, they walked out of Justin's studio.

* * *

_Same Time – Fin and Tony's residence - Harrisburg_

"Did I ever tell you that I love that apron on you? It's so light and _airy_." Tony twisted his body to grin back at his partner as Fin walked up from behind from the garage access door, admiring the view of the blond attorney standing there in their kitchen in front of the stove wearing nothing but a navy-blue apron tied around his slim waist and neck; the dark fabric of the apron contrasted dramatically with Tony's light skin and was sexy as hell. Of course, the way Tony was so saucily _wearing_ his apparel might have also had something to do with Fin's body temperature rising; his perky little butt was peeking out from between the folds of the fabric like some fresh peach just waiting to be plucked. _If the other attorneys could see their opponent right now_, he thought with amusement as he enjoyed the view. He gave the air an appreciative sniff as he approached his partner, smelling the unmistakable aroma of steak cooking. "Are we having _open-faced_ roast beef sandwiches tonight in honor of your apparel?"

Tony laughed softly as Fin reached his arms around his waist and pulled him back up against his chest to give him a quick kiss on his neck. "Well you're half right," he said as Fin peered around him to study what he was cooking on the stove. "It's beef, but it's Salisbury steak in gravy." He turned around in Fin's arms to add, "And the only _open-faced_ part around here is me. No point in wasting time later with clumsy clothing removal."

Fin grinned. "You attorneys always get right to the point, don't you? I _like _that; I guess opposites really do attract then, because politicians always get accused of being vague and circuitous."

Tony chuckled as he reached up on his tiptoes to kiss his partner on the lips. "Maybe most politicians, but I would never accuse you of that." Fin gazed into his eyes as he asked, "How did the meeting between your newly-installed campaign manager and the rest of your staff go?"

"Well, speaking of not beating around the bush, no one would accuse my son of ever doing that," Fin reported. "I think by the time he got done with them, they all had a very clear idea of his philosophy and that he doesn't take any bullshit from anyone. By the way, you want to guess what he thought of that campaign slogan that my press secretary came up with a few weeks ago?"

"That it was weak, predictable and full of shit?"

Fin snorted in amusement. "That about covers it, I'd say. You were right with your initial assessment." At the time Fin had shown it to him, Tony had thought it was boring as hell, but bowing to what he thought was expert opinion, he had opted to keep it; turns out his partner had been right about it all along… "It _does_ help to have an advertising genius, though, in the family," Fin responded. "He's going to put some of his own people to work to come up with a new promotional spin, plus I happen to know he's very familiar with a brilliant graphic artist who might be able to help out as well."

Tony looked up at him smugly. "He's not the _only _genius. Didn't I tell you?"

Fin smiled as he reached his hands down to the two soft, fleshy mounds of Tony's ass and gave them an appreciative squeeze; he was rewarded with an audible groan in return. "You're a pretty self-satisfied little shit, aren't you?" he growled.

Tony beamed up at him. "That's me, a highly _intelligent_ and adorable little shit."

Fin laughed as he smacked his partner's ass with one hand as he brought his other one up under Tony's chin. "Yes," he admitted with a tender smile. "You _are_ adorable… And you're all _mine… _Every delectable meaty little portion of you."

Tony huffed. "Hey, I'm not so _little_," he corrected in mock reproach as he turned back around to stir the steak smothered in gravy. He gasped as he felt Fin reach under his apron and squeeze his cock firmly before releasing it.

"You're right," he heard Fin whisper huskily in his ear. "Definitely NOT so little."

"Fin… You're going to make me burn our dinner." He smiled to himself, though, as he heard his partner's frustrated groan. "Poor baby," he cooed softly. "I promise I'll make it up to you afterward."

Fin sighed as he reluctantly let his partner go and walked over to open the top cupboard to the right of their sink that held their casual dinner dishes; for as long as he could remember, this was their 'normal' routine whenever Tony had time to cook for them – he would finish preparing the meal while Fin set the dinner table. As he reached up to take down two solid, off-white dinner plates and two matching bowls for their salad, he placed them down momentarily, leaned back against the counter and eyed his partner quietly. He decided he needed to find out Tony's reaction to his and Brian's plan to keep their partners nearby as the two of them were gallivanting across the state. He knew it was selfish in a way – wanting Tony with him while he began his campaign in earnest. After all, his partner's business was just as important as his work was. But their previous separation had taught him not to take Tony or their love for granted anymore; and truthfully, the thought of not having his partner by his side at night, pushing aside his doubts and his fears, was quite an unpleasant thought and totally unacceptable.

Tony sensed his partner's gaze on him and twisted his upper body to the right, discovering he had been correct; Fin was looking at him as if he were about to open his mouth to say something, but nothing was coming out. That was so atypical of his normally glib partner that it made him a little uneasy. "Fin?" he said teasingly. "It normally works out better to bring the dinner dishes over to the stove, rather than vice versa."

"Huh?"

Tony sighed as he slid the frying pan onto another, turned off burner and wiped his hands on his apron before turning and walking the few feet over to his partner. "What's on your mind, Senator?" he asked softly as he placed his hands on Fin's shoulders. "It sounded like everything went well with you and Brian today; what's wrong?" He noticed with some concern the serious look on his handsome partner's face. "If your staff members can't take some criticism…"

Fin shook his head as he slid his hands down to Tony's waist; he could feel his partner's warm skin under his touch as he grasped the slender frame. "It's not that, Tony." He stared into his partner's eyes, so blue and open, so loving. "What's on your docket for the next few months?"

Tony frowned; why were they talking about _that_? "My schedule? Why do you want to know?"

Fin licked his lips; why was he so nervous about this? He was being fucking ridiculous. "I… Brian suggested today that we rent a couple extra-large RVs to traverse the state for the next few months in an attempt to get my goals and platform out to as many voters as possible. He thinks not enough people know me well enough outside my particular constituent territory and this would be a good way to accomplish that."

Tony smiled, actually relieved that the topic Fin wanted to discuss wasn't serious after all; but what did a couple of RVs have to do with his courthouse schedule? He had to laugh softly; just the idea of Fin being driven around in an RV seemed comical. Fin _detested_ anything that remotely had to do with the idea of camping. His partner wasn't an ostentatious snob by any means, but he _did_ enjoy relaxing in comfort. He really didn't know much about camping or using an RV, but it didn't sound like the sort of vehicle Fin would be at home in. "_You?"_ he whispered back in amusement. "In an _RV_? Should I go out and buy an airbed for you and get you a hunting license?"

Fin's eyes flashed in aggravation. "Tony, will you just answer the fucking question?"

"Yes, sir!" Tony responded formally as he saluted his partner. "Just let me check my schedule, Sir!"

"Shit," Fin muttered in annoyance as he released Tony so his partner could walk over to the small, oval-shaped table near the back door heading out to the garage and pick up his Blackberry. He crossed his arms across his chest, leaning against the kitchen sink as he waited a little impatiently for his partner to scan the screen for his schedule. "Well?"

Tony rolled his eyes, wondering what the big hurry was. "You're a bossy brute, aren't you? And I thought the District Attorney was demanding." He and the county's defense attorney had tangled numerous times over the years, typically coming down on opposite sides of the fence, but at least he had the advantage of normally being victorious in their battles. When it came to his headstrong partner, however, that was a different matter, although a lot of times he just _let_ Fin think he had won… "Well, I have a couple of preliminary hearings next week for pre-trials… Two depos that have to be given to a couple of clients on the 21st… A couple of court filings that I need to prepare some paperwork for before the statute of limitations runs out…"

"Tony."

The blond glanced up at his partner; Fin was leaning his long-legged body against the back of the sink, tapping his right foot softly.

"What is the problem, Fin?" he asked, just a little annoyed now at the other man's obtuseness. "Just tell me what the fuck you want from me. I'm telling you what my schedule is – isn't that what you wanted me to do?" He sighed; sometimes Fin could be downright aggravating; it wasn't as if they hadn't been together for years now, but sometimes he felt like he and his partner were still trying to navigate their way around each other at times. He watched as Fin untangled his long legs and arms and slowly walked up to him. "What?" he asked softly, his face drawn in bewilderment.

Fin let out a weighted breath between his lips; why was this such a big deal? Was it because he wasn't that comfortable asking Tony to put his career on hold just to travel around with him? He really needed his partner by his side, though; it was going to be great having his son around so they could hopefully get to know each other better, but it still wasn't the same as having the man he loved with him, supporting and encouraging him when things got rough or contentious. God knows that was definitely going to happen; an overtly gay man running for governor in a state that was traditionally founded on conservative, traditional values? It was a foregone conclusion that not everyone was going to take kindly to his campaign, no matter how much he tried to distance his personal life from his solid record of civic achievement.

Fin bit his lip, looking oddly vulnerable to Tony as he replied, "I'd like you to come with me."

Tony narrowed his eyebrows. "Come with you _where_?"

Fin shook his head at his partner's denseness as he quipped, "On my road trip to the heartland of America."

"Whoa… Wait a minute," Tony interrupted him, feeling getting the picture. "You want me to travel around with you in an RV? Rough it? Go to sleep at night with the roaring sounds of rubber beneath our feet? Kiss babies and duck my head as rotten tomatoes are thrown at us?"

Fin huffed out a breath in barely-controlled restraint. "Don't be so melodramatic, Counselor! First of all, I don't think "roughing it" properly describes it. Have you ever been inside a luxury RV before?"

Tony pursed his lips together to keep from laughing. "_Is_ there such a thing?"

"Damn straight there is! And this particular model has two master bedrooms and a bathroom – with a Jacuzzi, I might add." He reached his arms around Tony's waist and pulled him close. "And a full-size kitchen with a gourmet stove – that way you and Justin can fight over who gets to cook me and Brian our meals."

Tony stared at his partner as if he had grown a second head. "You're actually _serious_ about this." The additional information Fin had mentioned began to resonate as he added, "Wait a minute – Justin's agreed to come along, too?" He placed his hands on the top of Fin's shoulders as he stared into his eyes, knowing by the expression on his partner's face that he was really, truly serious about his request.

Fin shrugged. "I know Brian was going to ask him; it was my suggestion. I figured a happy son is a happy campaign manager and I can't think of a better way to keep him happy than to have Justin come along for the ride. I think he would actually enjoy seeing more of the state and I figured it might give him some new ideas for future paintings." He raked his teeth across his lower lip thoughtfully. "Of course, I imagine it's a lot easier for an artist to pick up and go than an attorney, especially a highfaluting, _prominent_ attorney."

Tony rolled his eyes. "Are you trying to bullshit me or flatter me?"

Fin curled his lips under. "Depends on which one is the most effective."

Tony shook his head but he had to laugh softly. "You are so full of it, Fintan O'Connor."

"I am," his partner agreed. "Definitely. And _it's_ just dying to get out." He leaned in to bestow a soft but probing kiss on the blond's lips, his tongue gently washing across his mouth for permission to deepen it.

Tony could feel his lover's hardness pressing against him and his pulse began to pound; how did this man manage to do this to him, even after all these years? "Fin… Our dinner…" he sputtered out breathlessly in half-protest.

"Fuck the dinner," was the husky response against his lips. "On second thought, I'd rather fuck _you_."

Tony pulled back to stare into his partner's eyes and grinned. "You are so cheesy," he scolded him as he reached up to cup the bronzed cheeks. "And SO predictable."

"Predictable? I'll show you _predictable_." He unexpectedly tightened his hold on his partner and lifted him up, causing Tony's feet to leave the ground; the blond instinctively raised his legs to wrap them around Fin's waist as Fin smirked. "I'm not the only predictable one."

Tony grinned. "Not predictable – _horny_ as hell and needing to do something about it," he disclosed as he began to unbutton Fin's shirt, sliding his hands up the smooth skin toward his partner's neck. "Now practice being a good little politician and follow through on your promises."

Fin began to nibble on his partner's earlobe before taking a leisurely lick right behind Tony's ear where he was so responsive; he received a soft sigh of pleasure in response. _Gotcha._ He licked his lips playfully as he began to back up toward the living room, heading toward their oversized, leather couch. "My pleasure, Counselor. But answer my question first," he commanded forcefully with a growl. "Does the prosecution rest or are you going to appeal?"

Tony laughed as they came to the side of the couch and Fin promptly turned around and dropped him, ass first, down onto the sofa. "Hey!" He glared up at his partner. "Well, I think I'll need an aside with the judge first to discuss it…" He squeaked as Fin pounced on him and pressed him, full-length, onto the soft as he began to relentlessly tickle him this time.

"Okay, okay!" the blond cried out. "I surrender; I drop my objections, Senator. No appeal! I'll rearrange my schedule!" _Was there ever any question, anyway? The choices were to plod on monotonously alone for weeks on end, working on his legal cases and surrounded by a mound of paperwork while his partner was traipsing around the state, orating so eloquently in front of thousands of hot, horny men who would no doubt be lusting after him, or go WITH him, watching his passionate, confident partner working up a sweat, his shirtsleeves rolled up as he presented his platform to his constituents while the two of them worked up a sweat at night in their luxury-on-wheels, master bedroom? _

Fin ceased his taunting at last, draping his body over his partner's as he braced himself to either side of the slender body with his arms as if he were doing a pushup. He smiled. "You're such a smart man, Cassinelli. I think that's why I love you." He twisted onto his side to brace himself on one elbow as he slide his free arm around his partner's body to curve his other hand around the blond's ass; he felt Tony lurch as he poked one finger inside briefly. "That and your tight little ass," he added huskily as he pulled on the thin straps of his partner's apron and pulled it up over his head, exposing the pale, slender body. "Now let's practice for our road trip, Counselor."


	15. Preparing for the Road

_The Next Morning_ – _Pittsburgh – Liberty Diner _

"What the FUCK is HE doing in here?" Debbie growled to Kiki from her place behind the diner's counter; she stared in disbelief at the two well-dressed men sitting in one of the back booths. She couldn't believe it; as the older, taller, distinguished-looking man had entered a few minutes ago with his dining companion, she had instantly recognized him as she had emerged from the back room: the man was thinner than she had remembered him, and the lines in his face were more pronounced, but it was still Jim Stockwell, the disgraced, homophobic former police chief, the man who had almost succeeded in becoming mayor of Pittsburgh and would have in effect turned their town into a virtual haven of bigotry, hatred and intolerance.

"Who, Deb?" Kiki asked her as she snapped her gum and peered curiously over at the booth where two men in tailored, dark-colored suits were presently sitting, calmly looking over the menus as they sipped from mugs of coffee. "The two old guys at the back there?" They certainly did look out of place among the normal patrons of the diner; most of the clientele here were typically either casually dressed or at least younger businessmen.

"Yeah," Debbie said as she tapped a pencil in agitation on the counter and glared over at them. "Don't you know who the dark-haired guy is?" When Kiki shook her head, Debbie's voice dripped with contempt as she spat out, "Jim Stockwell, the asshole former police chief. The _same_ police chief who's supposed to still be in the fucking jail!"

Kiki's eyes widened as she studied the man Debbie was looking at. "Yeah," she replied at last in realization. "I remember him now! Oh, my God! Wasn't he put away for a long time after that cop committed suicide? The one that was accused of killing the kid that was found in our dumpster?

Debbie nodded as she continued to stare at the two men, her eyes flashing with fury. "Yeah," she told her friend. "The one and the same. I can't fucking _believe _this!" She shook her head; this HAD to be a dream, no, a nightmare; this man couldn't possibly be sitting at one of their booths, casually sipping on his coffee as if he were ready to go to work somewhere and didn't have a care in the world.

"Well, I'm not waiting on that bastard!" she exclaimed loudly, causing some of the nearby patrons of the diner to turn their head to stare at her curiously. "He's not welcome here!" she declared as she started to move out from behind the counter to go over and tell him so.

"Just a minute, Debbie," Stan Calloway, the bald-headed, burly owner, told her firmly as he reached out to grasp her wrist as she started to walk by. "That's not your decision to make," he told her. Calloway had bought out the previous owner about six months ago when the older man had retired and moved to Florida, but even he knew about his most tenured employee's devotion to gay causes and her hatred of the man who she saw as the embodiment of prejudice and bigotry; but Calloway was a savvy businessman and _also_ knew that the police were frequent patrons of the diner; he had to weigh that against her staunch beliefs. Hell, even Debbie's boyfriend was a regular here.

"You want me to wait on that shithead?" she growled as she stared over at her boss incredulously. "Well, I'm not DOING it! I'm not waiting on someone who wants all gay people, including my own son, to crawl back into some hole somewhere and pretend that they don't exist!"

"That may be," Calloway conceded, "but he's got as much right to eat here as anyone else, unless you want ME to run a Gestapo state as well," he told her firmly. He turned to look at Kiki. "Kiki, go take their orders." The trannie looked at Debbie apologetically before, knowing she lived paycheck to paycheck and depended upon her waitressing to pay her bills, she pulled out her pencil from behind her ear and her order pad from her apron before slowly walking over to the back of the diner to wait on the two unwelcome men.

As Kikki reluctantly walked away from them to do her job, Debbie shook her head and stared daggers back at her boss. "You know… For the first time since I've been working here for the past thirty years, I'm actually ashamed to BE here." She abruptly reached behind her to untie her apron and throw it angrily down on top of the counter. As her boss opened his mouth to rebuke her, she added brusquely, "I'm leaving for the day. If you're lucky, I'll be back tomorrow for my next shift. Right now, I don't give a fuck _what _you do." Giving the two men toward the back of the room an icy glare, she huffed out a furious breath before pivoting on her feet and walking out from behind the counter; a few seconds later, the door slammed behind her as she quickly exited the diner.

* * *

Stockwell looked over at the front entrance smugly as he noticed the flamboyant, redheaded waitress stomping over to the front door and yanking it open; he had recognized her as one of the most outspoken critics of his mayoral campaign before and had initially hesitated coming to the Liberty Diner when his breakfast companion had suggested it for fear that he would run into her. But upon further reflection, he had decided any initial discomfort would be worth it for the opportunity to rub her nose in the fact that he was out now and a free man to do whatever he pleased, including making an appearance here in the diner where a lot of her fag friends hang out. The fact that there would be so many queers here didn't bother him at all; in fact, it gave him a certain perverted pleasure in knowing that he could flaunt his own freedom in their face. The icing on the cake would be if Kinney himself walked in the door right now, but he figured that with all the behind-the-scenes activity that typically occurred with a campaign, as his manager O'Connor's son would be quite busy at the moment if he was doing his job properly.

"You sure this is such a great idea?" Richard Turner asked him as he glanced around uneasily; he could almost cut the hostility with a knife. "That woman recognized you, I'm sure of it." It hadn't been hard to figure out that the redheaded waitress who had so abruptly left a moment ago had been angry about something, and from the icy glares they had been receiving, it hadn't been hard to put two and two together. Stockwell chuckled, clearly enjoying himself. "Yeah, I'm sure she did," he told Turner as he watched their waitress walking over to the cook's station to place their breakfast order. "She and I have a past together."

"A _past_?"

Stockwell smiled. "Yeah… She was a real thorn in my side during my campaign for mayor; managed to show up all over the television talking with reporters and just loved to shove her opinions down my ass every time." He narrowed his eyes in scorn as he leaned across the table so as not to be overheard; after all, Stockwell was firm in his beliefs but he also didn't have a death wish, either. "She has a fag for a son, just like O'Connor does. Only difference is that _he's _a fag, too."

Turner shushed him with his hand. "Will you keep it down?" he muttered as he glanced around to make sure no one had heard him. "Why in the hell you didn't suggest we meet somewhere else is beyond me," he added as Kiki returned to place a couple glasses of orange juice and a bottle of syrup down on the table. They waited until she had left before continuing their conversation. "This is like political suicide, Stockwell. Are you trying to end my fucking campaign before it even _begins_?"

Stockwell sighed in disgust at the man's timidity. "You'd better grow some balls, Turner, or your campaign WILL be over before it starts. We're only having breakfast here, not conducting a press conference. That's downtown at the convention center."

Turner shook his head. "Why start here, Stockwell?" he countered. "These are not exactly going to be my most staunchly-supportive constituents."

Stockwell smirked. "No, I suppose not." He looked around at the diners nearby; some were dressed conservatively enough for business in suits and ties as they read their papers or looked up something on their laptops, but most of them could only be described as crazy-looking queens. One tall man sitting at a counter stool was even dressed in a sort of black-and-white fur boa, complete with a silver, sleeveless, sheer-fabric shirt and a pair of deep purple, sparkly pants. And he could have sworn that one man had just walked out with a pair of jeans that had holes cut where the butt cheeks were to showcase what he no doubt thought was one of his greatest assets. "But I consider it a great big 'fuck you' to this part of town for their part in bringing me down."

Turner started to open his mouth to retort before he noticed their waitress, _Kiki, _as shown on the tag pinned to her vest, returning with their pancake specials. He waited until she had left before commenting, "Well, if we're not careful, you'll manage to bring my own campaign down along with it." He was beginning to question the wisdom of getting this arrogant, conceited man involved with his campaign. Stockwell had demanded his name be kept out of everything and now here he was, having breakfast with the guy? The only thing that kept him from bolting right there and then was the fact that here in this part of the state he was still a virtual unknown and the undeniable fact that he _needed_ Stockwell's knowledge of Kinney to help defeat O'Connor.

"Relax, Turner," Stockwell growled. "We're just having breakfast. Then the _real_ fun will start."

Turner eyed him warily. "The _real fun_?"

Stockwell began to cut up his pancakes with his knife before he looked over at his dining companion. "Yeah…Why do you think we're here? When we're done here, we've got an important meeting to go to before your kickoff rally."

"An important meeting?"

Stockwell smiled in satisfaction. "Yeah… I like to call it the Kinney Kiss-My-Ass Agenda. We're about to find out everything there is to know about your opponent's new campaign manager… Right in his own backyard."

For the first time that morning, despite the rather uneasy atmosphere in the diner, Richard Turner found a reason to smile.

* * *

_Same Time – Britin_

"Justin! For the third time, if we don't leave NOW we will miss the fucking plane!" Brian stood near the door to the garage, his hands on his hips in extreme irritation. Why did it always take his husband so long to get ready to go somewhere? It wasn't as if he had to spend an inordinate amount of time preening in front of the mirror to hide his pudgy body or his gray hair. What had he been thinking when he had suggested he go along with him on their RV trip? Oh, yeah… The thought of not having his hot little ass to fuck for a couple of weeks. He sighed in resignation, tapping his foot impatiently as he waited for the telltale signs that a certain blond was coming. Finally, he heard a set of footsteps rapidly hurrying down the hallway and a few seconds later a petite blur sheepishly came running up to him.

"About fucking time, Sunshine," he muttered; his eyes narrowed as he took in everything Justin had with him. "Justin… You're not going back out to LA for the summer to draw storyboards for Rage; we're just traveling around the fucking _state_! We don't need all that shit! There's a weight limit even on private planes, you know." Brian had already placed his one piece of luggage and his suit carrier in Justin's SUV; even with the blond's larger vehicle, however, he doubted they could fit all the equipment his husband was planning on stowing away for their trip.

Brian grunted as Justin shoved a large box in his hands. "What the hell is _in_ this?" he grumbled as he noticed how heavy it was. "I told you, we only need a _couple_ of dildos while we're gone, not the whole toy chest."

"Ha, ha," Justin retorted as he stuck his chin out. "If you must know, it's some pots and pans and a couple of cookbooks. We're not going to have time to stop in every city along the way so you can eat at a four-star restaurant; besides, that wouldn't look too good for your father's image, either. You DID say this contraption had top-of-the-line kitchen appliances, didn't you?"

"Well, yeah," Brian admitted, struggling to keep the box firmly secured in his arms. "But that doesn't mean we have to bring all this shit with us!"

Justin huffed. "Well heaven forbid if I should try to save us some money and actually want to cook something homemade for you and your father! I'm sure Tony will be happy to help me – he likes to cook, too."

"How quaintly domestic," Brian quipped; he rolled his eyes, knowing this was a fight he wasn't going to win; of course, when it came to Justin, he normally didn't anyway. "Open the fucking door, then, Julia Childs," he muttered, "And let's get this cooking school on the road."

Justin beamed in delight, realizing he had won, as he let go of the large suitcase he was rolling along behind him and placed his art portfolio down on top of the nearby kitchen counter. He smiled at Brian sweetly as he turned the doorknob and stood aside for Brian to pass by; as the brunet walked over to him, he glared at Justin as the blond shrugged his shoulders at him. "Little shit," Brian muttered as he shook his head. He couldn't help leaning over to give those enticing pink lips a brief kiss before hefting the box onto his shoulder and walking out into the garage; he felt a smack on his ass as he walked by and a soft giggle, also, as he placed the heavy cardboard box down at the back of Justin's vehicle and lifted the tailgate to place it inside.

"Don't think that won't go unpunished, Mr. Taylor," he growled to his husband as Justin came walking up, rolling his large piece of luggage behind him and toting his portfolio under his left arm.

"That's Mr. _Taylor-Kinney _to you, Big Shot," Justin retorted playfully with the hint of a smile. Brian watched in amusement as Justin grunted while he attempted to lift the heavy piece of luggage up and over the lip of the vehicle's rear bumper but failed. Chuckling at the blond's look of disgust, he obligingly reached down and deftly swung it up into the back of the SUV, right next to a lightweight cooler.

"Well, _Mr. Taylor-Kinney_… Get your hot little ass in the vehicle and let's get the hell out of here," he groused. "It's very gauche for the campaign manager to miss his own flight." This time he gave Justin a sharp smack on said 'hot little ass' as his husband yelped in response and turned to rub one tender cheek as Brian smirked. "Now let's get a move on, Hot Stuff." He laughed as Justin turned around just enough to present his _other_ 'cheek' to him for attention, even going so far as to bend over the back of the vehicle for better access. "Later, twat... Don't tempt me," he warned him as Justin grinned and walked around to get into the SUV's passenger seat.

* * *

_One Hour Later – Harrisburg RV Sales & Rental_

A tall, imposing bald-headed man wearing a single gold hoop in his right ear rose from his glass-enclosed desk near the front of the showroom as a group of four men entered the spacious interior and walked over to them with a polished, oft-rehearsed smile. "Hello, may I help you?" he asked the most distinguished man of the group – a dark-haired, immaculately dressed male who appeared to be in his mid-50's; he was wearing a navy-blue, pin-striped suit with a crisp white shirt and a candy-apple red tie and matching handkerchief, along with a flag pin on his lapel, his hair groomed neatly without a lock out of place.

Fin nodded. "Yes, are you Mr. Clayton?" When the man nodded, he continued, "My name is Fin O'Connor. I believe you have an RV reserved for me."

The man's face lit up as he realized this was the party that had rented his most exclusive and expensive model. "Oh, yes… Senator O'Connor!" he exclaimed, reaching over to vigorously pump the man's hand with a tight grip. "It's a real pleasure to meet you, Sir! I'm a die-hard Democrat, so you can count on my vote in the fall!"

Fin smiled politely, realizing that may be true or not; he had met enough of the public by now to know that not everything was as it seemed; if someone thought they could benefit by befriending an influential politician, sometimes they would say anything to receive favors later on. "Thank you, Mr. Clayton," he responded coolly. He turned to his son, Tony and Justin. "This is my campaign manager, Brian Kinney, who handled the transaction over the phone with you."

Clayton nodded as he took Brian's hand. "Yes, I remember speaking to you, Mr. Kinney, nice to meet you."

"And this is Brian's husband, Justin Taylor-Kinney and my partner, Tony Cassinelli." For a moment, he noticed the man's face cloud over and immediately recognized the telltale signs of mild disdain written there, but like a true salesman the man quickly masked it as he shook both Justin's and Tony's hands. "Gentlemen," he said a little less cordially. He cleared his throat. "If you will all come with me, I have the paperwork all ready for you."

"I'll wait here with Justin," Tony told Fin, who nodded. As he and Brian walked away toward Clayton's office, he turned to his friend. "Did you see that look on his face?"

Justin nodded as he watched them go. "Yeah, I saw it," Justin answered, his lips set in a firm line. "He tried to hide it right away but it was still there." He sighed. "I have a feeling this may be just the beginning of it, Tony. I'm certainly not naïve enough to think bigoted people like him don't exist all over the state, despite Fin's popularity as a senator. Remember, he hasn't had to run for office again since he came out; this will be the first time he's had to do it since he announced he was gay – and has a gay son. Even though there's been some improvement recently toward greater acceptance, that doesn't mean the majority of voters here in the state are going to be receptive to having a gay man as Governor."

"You don't think he has a chance of winning?" Tony said just a little miffed, feeling a bit offended that Justin didn't have confidence in either his partner or his own husband to pull off a successful campaign.

"No, that's not what I meant at all," Justin hastened to explain, grasping Tony's sleeve to get his friend's attention. "I really think he can win this thing, you know that; I just think he's going to have to work harder at persuading voters to concentrate on what's _really _important – the issues affecting the average person, not someone's sexual orientation that has NOTHING to do with their ability to effectively govern this state. But if anyone can help develop the right campaign for him to succeed, it will be Brian."

Despite his irritation, Tony couldn't help nodding with a slight smile. "You _have_ been around our new campaign manager a lot, haven't you? You sound just like him."

"Well, I AM married to him," Justin pointed out with a conspiratorial grin, relieved that Tony wasn't angry. "He's bound to rub off on me sometime."

"Yeah, I know the feeling." He replied as his face sobered regretfully. "I'm sorry, Justin. I know you believe in Fin," he told him. He sighed wistfully. "Well, at least _you're_ married, anyway."

Justin looked into Tony's eyes thoughtfully. "That's what you want, too… Isn't it? To marry Fin."

Tony looked over at Clayton's office, seeing his handsome partner standing against the side wall, his hands crossed over his chest as Brian signed the paperwork. His heart ached at the question; that WAS what he wanted eventually – to have what Justin and Brian had. He bit his lip as he turned to look back at his friend. "Yeah," he admitted. "I know – it's just a damn piece of paper and doesn't change the way we feel about each other. And I AM glad that he finally came clean to everyone about our relationship. That means a lot to me."

"But you'd still like that little piece of paper that tells the world you belong to each other and are committed to each other." Justin knew that feeling all too well; oh, he had told Brian before he had left for New York briefly that they didn't need the paper to prove how they felt and they hadn't; by that time they knew unequivocally that they loved each other deeply. That still didn't mean that he hadn't wanted it, though. He glanced down at his gold wedding band gleaming proudly on his left hand; their wedding day had been so unbelievably wonderful; standing up there in front of all their friends and family, reciting their unique vows to each other. Perhaps it wasn't until that moment that he had understood just how much he had yearned for that, how he had craved it, how he had longed for that vow of love and commitment for all the world to see. No, they didn't have to have it – he had known how Brian had felt about him, he had for a very long time. But it had still been the most incredible and happy day of his life, and as he looked over at Tony he could sense his pain acutely and realize exactly what he was feeling. He wanted his friend to experience that, too.

"Yeah," Tony replied softly. "I know it doesn't really prove anything, and I know Fin loves me. And he _has _come a long way since he first found out he had a son and I'm grateful for that much at least." He straightened up his shoulders and smiled at his friend reassuringly. "It's okay… I know even if it _did_ happen, it wouldn't be soon. And I know how much he loves me – that's enough for now. Really."

Justin's eyes softened sympathetically as he nodded; it hadn't been too long ago that he had been in pretty much the same situation. He wasn't quite convinced that Tony was being totally honest with him about being satisfied with the status quo, but he sensed that was what he wanted him to believe anyway. "Okay," he said, deciding it was perhaps prudent to change the subject as he smiled at his friend. "By the way, I brought a couple of my favorite cookbooks and some pots and pans like we talked about. Brian's meaning of a decent meal is a couple pairs of chopsticks and some takeout Thai, although he's gotten a little better about that since we don't live so close to all his favorite restaurants now." Their home in West Virginia wasn't exactly in what you would call suburbia, although Brian _had_ managed to find a few decent delis and mom-and-pop eateries not too far away. That, and the fact that Justin had actually become quite a good cook, had persuaded his husband to imbibe a little more frequently in home-cooked meals. Justin relished in preparing them and Brian enjoyed the fruits of his effort, so it was a win-win situation for them both.

Tony grinned. "Good… I understand from Fin that this jalopy actually has a gourmet kitchen; stainless steel appliances and everything." He noticed Justin's blue eyes lighting up in epicurean delight. "That might not be important to my _partner_, but I thought it was great." He blushed a little as he admitted, "He was more excited about their being queen-sized beds on board."

Justin laughed. "Really; I can't imagine," he kidded his friend. "Actually, I happen to know that Brian did a lot of research before he settled on a particular model, and the size of the beds was one of the most important features for him, too. One thing about Brian – he can be tough as nails when he needs to be, but when it comes to comfort, he wants the best available." He recalled how back in the dark days of Stockwell, Brian had been forced to go into such deep debt he had been compelled to sell almost everything he had; one thing he had stubbornly refused to give up, however, was his bed. It seemed some things never changed.

Tony chuckled. "Like father, like son. Not that I'm complaining, mind you. I think both beds might be getting quite a workout, if you know what I mean," he said, just a little embarrassed. He noticed Justin turning a little deeper shade of red, also, as he silently concurred.

Their present train of thought was interrupted as they saw Fin and Brian heading back toward them, a pair of keys jingling from Brian's hand. They heard Clayton calling after Fin, wishing him success in his upcoming campaign. Justin thought his words of support now sounded stiff and forced, but he figured the man was still happy now that he had what he wanted – a fat, juicy luxury RV rental agreement covering the next two weeks' time period.

Brian held the key fob up to Justin and Tony as he approached. "Time to hit the road, Gentlemen," he drawled as he twirled the key around his long fingers.

Justin eyed him warily. "Brian, tell me you are NOT going to actually drive that thing?" He had seen how huge the luxury models were that were camped outside of the building as they had pulled up; they looked enormous and as far as he knew, his husband had never been anywhere near one of those types of monstrosities. He had assumed they would have some sort of driver for that purpose.

Brian playfully ruffled Justin's hair as he boasted, "Well, Sunshine, some of us are drivers, and some of us are riders. I'm a _driver_ all the way." He grabbed the blond by the scruff of his neck and pulled him to his side, planting a brief kiss on his forehead like you would a small child before he let him go. "Let's go check this baby out!" He grabbed Justin's hand and began to tug him toward the showroom entrance door.

Justin turned to Tony as he and Brian neared the exit. "Well, don't just _stand_ there!" he shouted. "I'd rather not die alone!"

"Very funny," Brian growled as he yanked the door open and pulled them through. "Come on."

Tony and Fin stood there in amusement as they disappeared out the door; they could see Brian wrapping his arm around Justin's waist as they walked toward the luxury RV parked nearby, almost as if he were afraid the blond might bolt out of fear. The two partners turned to look at each other as Fin grinned. "Why do I suddenly feel like my son thinks he's got a new toy?"

Tony laughed. "My thoughts exactly; we'd better get out there before he runs someone down in the parking lot." Fin grinned as the two strode toward the door; truth be told, he was probably as excited as his son was to check out the RV; Brian had told him about it over the phone yesterday after calling the dealership to set it up, and it had sounded almost too good to be true. Just like his son, he had never been inside an RV before in his life, but the way Brian had described it, it almost sounded like a mansion on wheels. His impression of an RV was the old-fashioned kind with a two-burner stove, a mini-refrigerator and a couple of pop-up beds. He couldn't wait to see what his son had arranged.

They exited the showroom and turned to the right toward the parking lot to follow Justin and his son; Fin watched as Brian approached a brown, black, and cream-colored-unit with a swirl design on it; it had two windows on the side that weren't necessarily very large, but the front windshield was HUGE. He watched Brian walking around the RV like a kid in a candy store, a look of fascination on his face as Justin stood there watching him with amusement.

He disappeared around the other side as he and Tony walked up to join Justin. "You really think he knows how to drive this thing?" Tony asked him.

"Well, he told me he has to go through a short training course around back before they let us leave," Justin told him. "But he couldn't wait to come over and check it out first."

Brian emerged from the back of the RV, a big smile on his face. "This is so sweet!" he exclaimed as he walked back up to them. "I can't wait to see the inside!" He turned the chrome-colored handle of the vehicle to open the door and eagerly stepped up to the first step to crane his neck and peek inside. "Holy shit!" he cried out as he looked down at Justin and extended his hand. "You won't believe this, Justin! Come up here!"

Justin smiled at the excitement on Brian's face; it took quite a bit for Brian's eyes to light up the way they were presently, so this must be something special indeed. As he took Brian's hand and allowed him to pull him up into the vehicle, he immediately realized why. This wasn't a luxury motor vehicle; this was a _palace_ – not quite as palatial as Britin, but it could be a close second. The interior was trimmed in polished wood that gleamed under the track lighting overhead. There were two rows of curved, cream-colored leather couches on either side of the combination living room/kitchen area in a sleek design with a large, flat-screen TV in a nearby alcove; a stainless-steel convection/microwave oven and stove sat in a recessed part of the middle kitchen area, along with a refrigerator made to blend in with the cabinetry. One of the bedrooms could be seen just through a doorway behind a privacy wall. They hadn't rented just a temporary vacation vehicle – it was a luxurious home away from home.

Justin was stunned; he stood there with his mouth open as he heard Fin and Tony walk up behind him. "Oh, my God," he heard Tony exclaim as the two partners stepped up into the vehicle and stopped directly behind him. "This is absolutely incredible!"

"Can you fucking _believe_ this?" Brian shouted as he did a pirouette to take in all the details and held his hands out to his sides like he was a tour guide. He walked over to grab Justin's hand again. "Come on, husband – let's check out the _rest_ of this baby!" He pulled Justin along behind him as they walked toward the back of the vehicle. "We get first dibs on the bedrooms!" Fin heard him say as they disappeared down the hallway. He heard Brian's voice, again saying, "Holy Fucking Shit!" as they checked out the rear of the vehicle.

He turned to Tony with a grin. "I think someone likes his new toy. He sounds like a kid on Christmas morning."

Tony laughed. "Yeah, he does." His face sobered as he noticed the change in Fin's expression; it was almost as if a cloud had descended all of a sudden. "What?" he asked softly.

Fin gazed over where his son had gone. He looked at Tony and shook his head in dismissal. "It's nothing," he assured him. As Tony arched an eyebrow and continued to stare at him intently, however, he sighed. "It's silly, but I was just thinking that I wish I had been there for _Brian_ when he was a kid on Christmas morning. I'll never have that chance now."

Tony's heart ached over his partner's look of regret as he walked over and slid his arms around his waist to pull him close; he heard Fin sigh softly as he hugged him tightly. "What's important is that you're here _now_," he whispered against his ear. "You didn't know about him then," he reminded him as he pulled back far enough to gaze up into his eyes.

"I know," Fin replied, his voice still tinged with a little melancholy. "I just wish things had been different, that's all."

Tony smiled up at him tenderly as he took one hand and cupped it against his partner's cheek. "Well, you can make sure that you ARE there for him now; and you have a wonderful grandson who I think would just love to be spoiled on Christmas morning by his grandfather."

Fin gazed down lovingly into Tony's eyes as his own lit up at the thought. "Yeah… He's a great kid, isn't he?" He wasn't sure how often he would get to see his grandson with him living with his moms instead of Brian, but he was intent on making sure the child got to know him well; he had made that promise silently not only to his grandson but to Brian, too, and he fully intended to make good on his vow. Tony was right – he couldn't go back no matter how badly he might want to, but he could definitely make an effort to get to know both of his boys better in the future.

He turned his attention back to his partner as he placed his hands on Tony's shoulders and gazed into the sapphire-blue eyes. "You're really something, you know that?" he told his partner as he softly stroked his skin with his thumbs. "It certainly helps to have a logical one in the family."

Tony grinned at him. "Well, I'm glad I can be of service to you, Senator."

Fin curled his lips under as he said huskily, "Don't forget you said that, Counselor; I'm taking that down into evidence, because I'll definitely be wanting your _services_ later when we check out our bedroom."

"Fin," Tony murmured, blushing as his face warmed in response to the silky tone of his partner's voice. He felt goose bumps rising on his flesh as Fin leaned in to kiss him, his arms winding around his neck to pull him closer. The kiss quickly deepened as Fin's tongue poked out in invitation and Tony's lips automatically parted to accommodate him.

The clearing of someone's throat a few seconds later broke them apart as Tony turned around to look at Justin sheepishly.

"Want to see the rest?" Justin asked them with a smile. "I left Brian in the back; he's still checking out the mattress in our bedroom."

Tony and Fin nodded as they turned to follow Justin toward the back of the RV. Just behind the living room/kitchen area was the first of two bedrooms, both sporting queen-size, memory-foam mattresses. Tony and Fin's bedroom, sleek in design, was furnished with both a bed and a surprisingly roomy couch on the opposite wall; another flat-screen TV was built into the wall right across from the bed, and there was ample storage space both next to the television and above the bed.

"Wow," Fin commented as both men stood there in shock. "I have _never_ seen anything quite like it." He turned to Tony with a grin. "Think you can get used to roughing it for a couple of weeks?"

Tony smiled. "I think I can manage. This is almost as nice as some of the medium-security prisons I've visited," he joked.

"The bathroom's next," Justin told them as they exited the room; the bathroom was situated between the two bedrooms, providing a sort of barrier of privacy for both couples. "Brian let us down, by the way," he told them with a smile. "He bribed me to come with the promise of a Jacuzzi, but this one only has a walk-in shower. The sacrifices I make for my husband," he told them melodramatically with a sigh.

As Fin and Tony followed Justin into the bathroom, it was obvious that Justin was clearly kidding; while there wasn't the much-anticipated Jacuzzi, they weren't exactly going to do without, either; the bathroom was furnished with expensive granite tile and polished wood, and the spacious shower was enclosed totally in glass on all sides. The entire room just screamed elegance, despite being inside an RV. "This is just amazing," Tony exclaimed. "I had no idea how fancy these were."

Fin nodded. "Brian told me they were unbelievable, but his description didn't do this justice. I could almost live in one of these full-time. It sure isn't like living out of a tent."

Justin chuckled as he nodded in agreement. "No, it sure isn't. I used to go camping with my dad when I was around ten. We always had a good time, but our tent was _nothing_ like this." He bit his lip as the fond memories of so long ago came suddenly flooding back of him and his father parking their car in the visitor's parking lot of the state park and hiking with their heavy backpacks down a dirt trail until they reached a grassy, serene spot by the lake that surrounded the wooded terrain. It was their own special spot year after year, a spot they had found out was teeming with blue gill and trout. Over the campfire each night, they would cook the fish they had caught during the day and talk about 'men stuff:' – cars, sports, and what Justin wanted to be when he graduated from school. Even then, he knew his father wanted him to 'make' something of himself; unfortunately, his father's idea of being successful wound up being divergently different than his own. But back then, he idolized his father and never thought that there would come a time when they no longer even spoke to each other.

"Justin?"

He blinked and turned his head at the sound of Brian's voice in the doorway. Their eyes locked on each other as he felt the sting of tears at the back of his eyes. He inhaled a calming breath through parted lips and let it out before turning back around to see Fin and Tony eyeing him curiously. "Uh… I'm going to go get our suitcases out of the car," he told them as he turned to leave. He met Brian in the doorway and found himself swept up into a tight embrace, the brunet's arms coming around to hold him closely. They stood there silently for several seconds, Justin's hands pressed against Brian's chest, until finally they broke apart. "I'll come with you," Brian whispered; Justin nodded as he placed his hand around his husband's waist and they turned to head back outside.

Still standing inside their bedroom, Fin frowned. "What do you think _that_ was all about?" he asked his partner.

Tony sighed. "I'm not sure, but I suspect it was because Justin was thinking about his father. He talks a good talk, Fin, but I think he's still hurting over his father's reaction to his coming out and deciding to be an artist. He does a good job of acting like it doesn't matter anymore, but I know better. You don't just shut off your feelings for your father like closing and opening a window." Tony had spent years working with clients who had been rejected by their fathers or other loved ones due to choices they had made in their lives, good or bad, and he knew how it had continued to affect them years later; he had a feeling Justin was the same way.

Fin shook his head sadly at the irony. Here he had spent years not realizing he had a son, years in which he would have given anything to spend it with Brian had he only known about him, when Craig Taylor had a wonderful son like Justin who had adored him, a boy who had turned into a talented, courageous man who loved him and wanted nothing but to be accepted and loved in return, but he had callously thrown it all away.

"His father is an asshole," Fin growled in contempt, his eyes flashing. "How he could just destroy their relationship, when he had a man like Justin as his son…" His voice trailed off as his blood boiled, and he turned when he felt Tony's hand on his shoulder. "I will never be able to figure that out, Tony." He sighed as he reached up to stroke the back of his partner's hair, knowing he couldn't do anything about Justin's father but unable to completely let it go. "I guess we'd better go get our luggage, too," he finally decided. Tony nodded as they turned to exit the bedroom and go retrieve what they would need for their trip.

* * *

_One Hour Later _

"Looks like the rest of our happy little band are here," Brian said drolly to his father from behind the wheel; the RV was being fully gassed up in preparation to leave, but they had needed to wait until the rest of Fin's staff had arrived. Brian was going to hold an impromptu strategy meeting with the rest of Fin's key staff members who would be following their vehicle in a sort of convoy from town to town. He knew once they stopped at the first location that they were scheduled to visit the press would be there and would be closely following their every move, so he wanted to take advantage of the relative calm here in their undisclosed location to hold their first on-the-road strategy session. Having the press around was a two-edged sword; it would be an intrusion into their lives, undoubtedly, but it would also not only make his father more well-known to constituents who might not know much about him and his platform, but it would also serve to generate as much publicity as they could to get the word out to others who might not be able to meet him in person.

Justin stood behind Brian, his hands on his husband's shoulders. To Justin's surprise, during his practice dry run behind the building earlier, Brian had proven he could actually drive the cumbersome vehicle competently, even though he had managed to knock down a couple of orange traffic cones along the way when he had clipped them making a turn. He had joked at the time about making sure all Republicans were well-clear of their vehicle when they pulled out of each town, but Justin had to admit he had been impressed by his skill in handling such a large RV, and Brian had seemed to derive inordinate pleasure out of being behind the wheel.

The four men watched as a charter bus pulled up holding several key members of Fin's staff. While the four of them would be staying in the RV overnight, the six others would be using their own makeshift office on wheels for campaign work during the day and bunking in pairs at a modest hotel at night. Brian had already prepared for the anticipated criticism regarding the cost of renting such an outlandish, expensive RV for the four of them; all the expenses were being paid for privately by Fin with no public expenditures involved. Despite the rather inordinate amount it would cost to not only rent the RV but keep it fueled, he figured out that it would still cost less than paying to fly them across the state and stay in a comfortable, secure hotel at night.

Brian stood up, arching his back to remove some of the kinks from his stiff muscles. He turned to Justin. "Do you know where the banners are?"

Justin nodded. "I'll go get them." He turned to walk back toward their bedroom located at the back of the RV; he and Brian were going to be using the master bedroom at the rear of the vehicle. It was furnished with a rounded, queen-size bed in shades of black, cream and gold, with a high, arched polished ceiling and an expansive window over the headboard.

From his place a few feet away where he leaned against the wall next to Tony, Fin turned to his son in curiosity as Justin headed back toward the rear of the RV. "Banners?"

Brian nodded. "They're going to be attached to the side of the RV and the bus to advertise your campaign before we leave for the first town."

Fin's eyes lit up in anticipation. "Does that mean no more _Win with Fin_?"

Brian grimaced at the horrid thought. "Damn straight it does. I'm not the best at what I do for nothing, and it certainly doesn't hurt to have a brilliant artist in the family, either." He walked over to Justin as he returned wielding two, large, rolled-up vinyl banners and take one of them from his hands. "Let's carry them into the living room area, Justin," he told his husband. "One of Clayton's men is going to attach them to the bus and the RV while I'm conducting the strategy meeting." Justin nodded as he carried one of the bulky rolls over to a couch and set it down.

Brian took his copy and placed it on the floor, using his foot to give it a push to unfurl it, exposing one of the new slogans he had created for his father's campaign. "Here it is – what do you think?" he asked as his father and Tony took a look at it.

The banner was radically different from any campaign slogan that either Tony or Fin had ever seen before: it was black in color with a white border surrounding it; in the middle a match being struck was prominently displayed with the words "Ignite the Change" written in white in the upper left. In the lower right were the words "O'Connor for Governor" in the same color and type font. The banner was simple but highly dramatic in its design.

"Wow," Fin murmured in amazement as Tony grinned. "I've never seen a campaign banner like this one before. It's certainly different." He looked at his partner standing next to him. "I know _I_ like it, but what do _you_ think? I'm kind of prejudiced here." He glanced over at his son who was facing him a few feet away; they locked gazes for a few moments silently until Tony said simply, "I think it kicks ass."

"Succinct and to the point as always, Counselor," Fin told him with a smile. "I happen to think it does, too." He looked over at Brian and told him warmly, "I think you're going to be the best thing that ever happened to my campaign, Brian; you and your talented artist husband."

Justin watched as Brian's face transformed into a pleased expression, his eyes softening with just the hint of a smile before he cleared his throat at the awkward father-son moment; it was all still so new to him – to actually have a father that was proud of him – and he didn't quite know yet how to handle it. "Well… I'm glad you like it," he responded a little self-consciously before his adman persona took over. "The other one is identical to this one; I'll have Clayton's man put them up before we leave, then." He bent down and rolled it back up to tuck it under his arm before he turned to his father. "Ready for the meeting? We need to get going soon."

Fin nodded as he and Brian turned to go. Just before they left, Justin called out to them. "We'll fix you two some breakfast for when you get back; I want to try out the stove."

Brian rolled his eyes and snorted. "Yes, Dear," he said in falsetto. "And wear that nice, frilly little lacy apron that looks so hot on you, okay?"

"Fuck you," Justin retorted as Brian smirked. The sound of Fin's laughter over their bantering could be heard as he opened the door and Brian followed him outside, leaving the two blonds alone.

Tony chuckled. "Was that a snappy comeback or a promise?" he asked Justin with a smile as they watched through the living room window while father and son walked over toward the maroon staff bus parked about 25 feet away.

Justin shrugged. "Both, I guess," he admitted to his friend. He grinned. "Well, now that the hurricane has blown out for a while, want to help me with my wifely duties?" Tony nodded, bemused, as the two of them got busy unpacking a white, throwaway Styrofoam cooler Justin had packed with a few perishables such as eggs, milk, butter, and juice and placing the items in the RV's refrigerator.

"Peanut butter?" Tony asked as he reached under the ice cubes and pulled out a jar.

"Of course," Justin told him as if it were the most crucial thing in the world. "I can't go anywhere without my peanut butter and Brian's coffee."

Tony grinned. "A man after my – and Fin's – own heart." He noticed a box marked "cookware" nearby. "Want me to unpack that for you while you're finishing unpacking the rest of the food?"

Justin nodded. "That'd be great. Brian gave me a lot of grief about bringing pots and pans and my cookbooks. But I'd rather fix something in here where it's private rather than have the press and public hounding us wherever we go, wouldn't you?"

Tony pulled out a medium- and large-sized saucepan and reached above the stove to place them inside one of the cabinets. "You'd better believe it. I got tired really fast of scurrying around like a rat hiding out from the press before Fin officially came out. That got old in a hurry." He turned to look at Justin, who was placing some non-perishable staples in the cabinet next to the refrigerator. "You're lucky, you know."

Justin frowned. "Lucky?" Actually, he could think of a _lot_ of reasons why he was lucky, but he wasn't quite sure which one Tony was referring to. "What do you mean?"

Tony turned around to lean against the stove as he watched Justin work. "You and Brian never made any secret about who – or what – you were; you never had to play all these games of subterfuge with anyone."

Justin snorted. "Everyone except my father, anyway; well, I didn't exactly hide that from him, either, at least not after I met Brian and tasted what it was like down on Liberty Avenue; I thought it was _so_ exciting!" he said, his eyes lighting up at the memory. "All the energy down there; all the vibrancy and all those guys who weren't afraid to admit who they really were. I knew I was gay before I met Brian when I was seventeen; but once Brian and I were together, it made it a lot harder to keep it a secret from my parents. And truthfully? It felt like this huge weight had been lifted from my chest when they _did_ find out. I didn't have to worry about their reactions any longer and I could just be ME. My mother had a hard time dealing with it at first, especially when she found out about Brian and our age differences. But she eventually came to accept him and even love him." He let out a heavy sigh. "My father never _did_ accept Brian – or me – once he found out. He even tried to beat Brian up once and even rammed into his car from the rear one night."

Tony's eyes widened in shock. "My God! He did?"

Justin nodded, his blue eyes suddenly stinging with the beginning of unshed tears. The strange thing was, he wasn't even sure why he was getting all teary-eyed; it wasn't worth it. HE wasn't worth it. "Yeah," he said softly. "He attacked him one night right outside Babylon when he and I were getting ready to leave in his Jeep. And not too long before that, he took his car one night when Brian was alone and rammed into him at full speed while he was stopped at a red light. Brian said he even backed up and hit him again; really banged him up bad, too." He looked at Tony sadly. "I felt horrible and so angry over what he had done to Brian… I was ashamed that my own father could be that bigoted and hateful."

Tony walked over and squeezed Justin's shoulder in sympathy. "I'm sorry, Justin."

Justin lifted his glistening eyes to peer into his friend's and shook his head in dismissal. "It's okay; I still have my mother and sister who love me for who I am; and I have a _new_ family now – Brian, Gus, and a father-in-law." He smiled. "And a new friend."

Tony smiled at him, feeling his _own _eyes misting over just a bit. "Yeah, you do," he told him firmly. Deciding he'd better move onto a different subject before they _both_ made sentimental fools out of themselves, he said on a lighter note, "So, what do you suggest for breakfast? Fin said the meeting would take about 30 minutes or so."

Justin nodded with a conspiratorial smile, his moroseness gone for the time being. "I thought… pancakes with sausage; I've got a great recipe for chocolate-chip ones…" Tony smiled as Justin reached into the cabinet for the pancake mix.

* * *

Adam Stewart sat, jaw set, as he listened to their new campaign manager instruct them on the rules for their upcoming two-week campaign caravan; Kinney had begun by unveiling a new campaign slogan with a certain arrogant flourish a few minutes ago – showing a new image on a black background, no less – that was to replace his _Win with Fin_ motto that he had worked so hard at creating earlier. The previous campaign poster had been easy to remember and prominently displayed all over town with a distinguished photo of O'Connor underneath the simple but effective words; now, however, it was being replaced by _this_. He seethed on the inside; who did this man think he _was_? If it hadn't been for Kinney's blood ties to the Senator, he would have never been sitting here, perched on the back of their small sofa like he was some fucking ruler, barking out guidelines that they all must adhere to during their cross-state trek: no talking to the press without clearing it with him first, no fraternizing with the public at local establishments; no barhopping at the hotels in the evenings, no usage of public phones, only cell phones issued by Fin's office. Did they have to seek his permission to take a piss, too? The man was both insufferable and conceited, but for now, he had to grudgingly go along with what he demanded. He forced himself to turn his attention back to Kinney as he wrapped up their strategy meeting.

"Any questions?" Brian asked as he looked out over the sea of faces. There were six of them gathered for the meeting in addition to him and his father – the main core of Fin's most trusted staff members and a college student: Adam Stewart, his logistics manager, Kirk Littleton, his speechwriter, Wanda Sizemore, his personal assistant who handled his schedule of appearances, Sara McMahan, an intern working for him to obtain college credit toward her political science major, Don Meyers, an old college friend who was his bodyguard, and Mark Leon, who was sort of a jack-of-all-trades; he handled everything from hotel reservations to proper lighting at speech appearances to being a lunch gopher, whatever Fin needed at any given time. With the exception of Stewart and McMahan, the others had been with the Senator for at least the past ten years and were totally loyal to their candidate and his campaign.

Quiet reigned as Brian nodded. "Fin, anything else?" he asked his father who was sitting at one of two small, rectangular-shaped tables nearby.

Fin shook his head. "No, other than I want to thank all of you for your continuing support. I know that I can count on each and every one of you to make our inaugural campaign caravan an effective and exciting one and that means a great deal to me. All of you know how much I enjoy getting out of the confines of my office to talk to my constituents and have their voices and opinions heard. As Brian said, this is going to be the most effective avenue we have to get my platform ideas across and make my policy known to those who are not as familiar with it. So let's make this the best endeavor that we can and show the citizens of Pennsylvania that we have what it takes to go all the way straight to the Governor's mansion!"

Fin's small band of loyal workers clapped enthusiastically as his old college chum, Don Meyers, put two fingers between his lips and let out a loud, shrill whistle. Fin grinned at him as he and Brian turned to go. "We'll be leaving promptly in thirty minutes," he told them, all business now. "Our first stop will be in Reading – about an hour away." He looked over at the bus driver, who nodded his understanding of their intinerary.

Brian hopped down from his place on the couch. "Okay," he advised, "there's a diner across the street – you've got just enough time to grab a bite to eat there if you want. But everyone needs to be ready to go in half an hour." He eyed all the staff members closely who nodded back at him in agreement before Fin placed his hand on his shoulder and they walked to the door to exit.

Stewart bit his lip, wanting so badly to say something scathing about their new campaign manager's know-it-all attitude, but he realized that would be a big mistake; he knew these others were staunchly loyal to O'Connor and would do anything for him. For now, then, it was more prudent that he acted like he felt the same way.

"Well, I don't know about _you _guys, but I'm going to take advantage of that diner and get me a giant cup of coffee and some eggs and bacon," Meyers said as he stood up. "Anyone care to join me?"

There was a round of consensus as all the staff members rose to head over and grab some breakfast before their departure.

"Aren't you coming?" Kirk Littleton asked Adam; the two of them were going to be roommates during the next two weeks at each of the hotels they crashed in for the night.

Adam smiled at him; it was a forced, bright smile but it looked remarkably genuine as he said, "Yeah, I'll be right over. I just need to make a quick call. Order me a large black coffee, okay?" Kirk nodded as the rest of the group exited the bus.

As soon as he was alone, Adam flipped his official, campaign-issued cellphone open and punched in a well-known number.

"Yeah, it's me," he said as soon as the other person answered. "I don't have much time – I just wanted to touch base with you and let you know what's going on."

"I've been _waiting_ for your call! You told me you would be calling an _hour_ ago!"

Stewart bristled. "Well, I can't exactly flip my phone open right in the middle of Kinney's wonderful little pep speech to the troops, now, can I?"

"Don't be such a smartass, Adam – just tell me what's going on," was the annoyed response.

The other man huffed out an irritated breath before advising his caller, "Our first stop is in Reading; we're leaving in about thirty minutes and it will take about an hour to get there."

"Any idea what O'Connor will be discussing at the town hall meeting? They'll want to have some plants there just to liven things up a little."

"I'm going to transmit the tentative agenda and draft of his speech over to you as soon as I end this call. That should tell him all he needs to know," he said smugly. It felt powerful to be able to help be responsible for bringing his pervert boss down; every time he got a glimpse of the man with his _partner_, hugging him or kissing him, it make bile rose in his throat.

"Good," was the approving reply as he returned his attention back to his caller. "I'll be waiting for the information."

As he hung up the phone shortly afterward, Stewart smirked. "Yeah… Good luck with that new campaign, O'Connor,"he said to himself. "You, too, Kinney. Your day in the spotlight will be a _short_ one."


	16. Confrontation and Revelation

_A/N: Fin and Brian prepare for their first town meeting; what will they encounter there? Thanks to my beta, Gloria, for looking this over.  
_

* * *

_Same Time _

Brian hurriedly programmed some preliminary travel information into his phone as he and his father walked back over to the RV. "We've got to get going soon or we're going to be 'unfashionably late' for your first campaign stop," he warned his father as he quickened his pace.

Fin smirked; something told him his son was going to be a taskmaster when it came to keeping them on time, but he didn't have a problem with that. Somehow he didn't think being a sloppy timekeeper was a good trait to have when he was trying to project himself as an efficient, no-nonsense but radically different gubernatorial candidate, an angle that Brian and he had discussed earlier in the week.

As Brian swung the RV's door open, the two men were immediately assailed with the odd smell of sausage and something else he couldn't quite put a handle on. As they climbed up into the vehicle, however, Brian wasn't surprised to see Justin standing in front of the stove, already making use of the gourmet appliance. He rolled his eyes a little as Justin smiled back at him and shrugged his shoulders. He noticed that Tony was setting the small eat-in table with some everyday dinnerware as he looked over at his father who had a similar look of amusement on his face.

"Isn't this quaint?" Brian quipped as he walked up to Justin and gave him a quick kiss on the neck from behind. "The happy little housewives preparing a home-cooked meal for their hard-working hubbies."

"Fuck you, Kinney," Justin retorted playfully as he reached his hand back to smack Brian on the butt. In his best June Cleaver voice, he said, "Now you boys go wash up – breakfast will be ready soon."

Brian chuckled softly as he said, "Yes, Dear," and walked off toward the bathroom, unbuttoning one button of his dark-gray linen dress shirt as he went. In keeping with his and Fin's decision to project a more business casual but still efficient image during the campaign, both men had forgone wearing suits and ties, deciding instead to wear button-down dress shirts and designer pants. Brian was more than glad to do without the constrictions of a suit jacket and tie any day. He did not want either he or his father to come off as being some stuffy, unapproachable type, especially since he figured their opponent, Turner, being a long-time businessman, was going to no doubt be doing the same thing. From what Brian had found out in his research so far, Turner was taking the tact that one of his biggest assets was his lack of political career, emphasizing instead his many years in the business world and his untarnished influence from the long, far-reaching arms of lobbyists. He was no doubt going to take the angle that his lack of experience in the political arena actually made him a better (read: honest and unbiased) candidate. It would be up to Brian, then, to work on projecting his father as the better of the two and non-affected,also, by the typical lobbying pressures that normally influenced a politician's policy decisions. He was confident he would be able to do that, too, because from what he had read about his father and from what Fin had told him directly, his father wasn't swayed by the money and opinions of others, choosing instead to use his own accumulated wealth if need be to push for causes he personally supported. Fin had acquired enough money over the years through shrewd investments not to have to depend upon questionable pundits for his viability. He could stand on his own as a result, and also stay true to his own principles. And truthfully, Brian wouldn't have wanted to support him if it had been any other way, because if there was one thing he despised, it was someone without any backbone to stand up for his own beliefs.

Fin walked over to Tony as they gave each other a quick kiss on the lips. "How did the meeting go?" he asked as he placed the last of the plates down on the table.

"Fine," Fin told him cryptically as Tony arched one eyebrow at him. He sighed; his partner was too good at reading his emotions. "Really – it went fine. I can tell Brian's going to be a good organizer and an excellent strategist for me." He smiled fondly at his partner. "As usual, you were spot on in your assessment about him, Counselor."

"Then why the hesitation in your voice?" Tony asked him pointedly as Justin eyed them silently from nearby, hoping there hadn't been any unforeseen problems.

"It's not Brian," he reassured both men as he sat down in one of the small table's chairs and Brian opened up the fridge to retrieve a bottled water. "I'm just a little edgy, I guess. I've never had to take a campaign on the road like this before or participate in town meetings on the fly, and it'll be the first face-to-face meeting I've had with the public since my announcement about… You know, you and me – and about having a son I never knew about." He grimaced. "From what I've seen on the news and heard from some of my colleagues, these town meetings are not exactly what I would call _civilized_." In fact, from what Fin knew, they were known to be downright rowdy and contentious, with little order or protocol. It definitely encouraged the free sharing of opinions, but it also fostered hostility and rudeness. His greatest fear was that his attempt to be open and honest with the public would turn, instead, into some sort of free-for-all. He and Brian had discussed that possibility at length, and had ultimately decided that it was worth the gamble. While Fin was well-known and respected in his district, outside his constituent base he was still relatively unknown. With the incumbent, Republican governor not able to run due to term restrictions and his expected, eventual backing for the party's candidate – Turner – it was important that Fin get out among the masses and start gathering support for his campaign. That meant taking some chances along the way, including opening himself up to exposure.

Tony was surprised by his partner's lack of confidence; normally Fin was unflappable and self-assured in every situation. That had been one of the qualities that had attracted him to the gorgeous-looking, assertive Senator when they had first encountered each other so long ago at the courthouse. They had been drawn to each other like two horny magnets and Fin has pursued him tenaciously until he had finally broken down his resistance and agreed to go out to a quiet dinner with him – on the sly, of course. Back then they had to be careful – very, very, careful – about their relationship even though Tony hated it at the time. Thinking about it, though, if he was honest, he hadn't put up much of a fight from the outset; he thinks he probably fell in love with Fintan O'Connor the moment he first laid eyes on him, but oh what fun it had been pretending that he wasn't that interested at first! It had definitely made for some hot nights of pursuit on Fin's part until Tony had simply admitted he wasn't trying to get away from him at all – far from it. It was great having their relationship out in the open now, but he was a little concerned by the sudden lack of conviction in his partner's voice.

He knew, though, that this was a different sort of campaign. This wasn't another 'shoo-in' election as Senator in a district that knew him well and supported him. They had to engage in a state-wide endeavor for Fin to become Governor to obtain the votes of people who didn't know him at all – and only had his record on paper and his recent disclosures regarding his personal life to evaluate him with. That was why Brian had said it was so important for Fin to get out and actually mingle and interact with the voters; only when he was front and center and could display the drive, boldness, and charisma that he possessed, and outline his platform so passionately as only he could do would the voters be able to make an educated, responsible decision. As Tony looked sympathetically over at his partner, however, he silently wished that they could have done it in a more structured manner, at least at first, but he nevertheless understood the need to do what they were doing. He just prayed that it wouldn't turn into a major fracas of some sort.

He walked over to the coffee maker to grab a couple mugs and pour some coffee into them, black, before he joined Fin at the table. Placing one mug in front of his partner, he sat down next to him and reached for his hand. Fin's eyes lifted to meet his and as usual his heart lurched in response. Somehow he knew that no matter where life took them in the future, he would always be firmly by this magnificent man's side. "You're going to be great out there," Tony told him confidently with a soft smile. "Fabulous… Stupendous… Wonderful…Amazing…"

Fin grinned, his eyes expressing the love he felt for this man who supported him at every turn. "Okay, Counselor, I think my head's big enough," he said as he squeezed Tony's hand.

"It certainly is," his partner replied playfully as Fin rolled his eyes at him before the blond broke out into a wide grin of his own. "No problem there." Fin shook his head in amusement as he leaned over to bestow another quick kiss on Tony's lips before he stood up. "I'm going to go wash up," he said as he observed Brian returning from the back of the RV and nodded at him in passing. "Try to save some breakfast for me until I get back, okay, Justin?" he called back. "Don't let Tony around the food unattended for long or it will be all gone in no time."

"Fuck you, Big Shot," Tony promptly shot back as Fin laughed. The two shared a knowing smile between them before Fin disappeared out of sight.

Brian snorted silently; his father apparently had forgotten about Justin's devouring of their wedding reception food several months ago, or he would have known the same statement could have been applied to _him_. Brian walked over to the stove to observe Justin finishing up their breakfast and had his first chance to see exactly what it consisted of. He noticed what appeared to be black spots on what normally would have been called pancakes. "What are those specks in there, Sunshine? Do we have cockroaches in here already?"

"Ha, ha," Justin quipped. "These are one of my specialties you never let me fix for you," he announced proudly. "I do it only for Gus; chocolate-chip pancakes." He picked up the plate stacked high with the flat discs, along with an abundant supply of sausage as he asked Brian, "Can you grab a couple cups of coffee?"

"I think I'm going to be ill," Brian remarked as he walked the few steps over to pour a couple more cups of coffee into two dark blue porcelain cups and hunted in the overhead cabinet for some sugar. Locating a cylinder of it, he poured a generous amount into his cup and a lesser amount into Justin's before walking over to join the other two men at the table. He wrinkled his nose at the sight of what must have been a dozen pancakes stacked high on one of the plates.

"Chocolate chips…" he muttered as he shook his head and stared at them as if they were miniature cow patties instead. He picked up a link of sausage and bit down on it, trying hard to somehow overcome the aroma of sweetness permeating the air. Breakfast was meant for eggs, whole wheat toast, and an occasional slice of meat; not prissy food like chocolate and whipped cream.

As if reading his thoughts, Justin jumped up. "I forgot the whipped cream and strawberries!"

Brian groaned while Tony enthusiastically agreed. "Bring the Hershey's syrup, too!" he called over to Justin, who nodded. A few seconds later, the three items were lying on top of the table as Brian tried furiously not to get sick.

"This isn't a fucking sundae bar, Justin!" he retorted in disgust. "You want me puking my guts out just before Fin's scheduled to make an appearance at the school?"

Justin rolled his eyes at his husband's prima donna display. "So just face the other way," he said reasonably as Fin walked up with an amused look on his face. "And hold your nose."

"They're ganging up on you already?" he quipped as he sat down next to Tony; he smiled as he recognized their breakfast item. "Ah… chocolate-chip pancakes; pass the whipped cream."

Justin laughed in delight at Brian's look of astonishment. "Are you _shitting_ me?" Brian asked his father. "You actually LIKE those?"

"Are you kidding?" Tony responded as Fin heaped three of the pancakes on his plate and promptly squirted a generous dollop of whipped cream on top. His partner obediently passed him the Hershey's syrup without so much as skipping a beat as he squirted some on top of the mountainous food, followed a few seconds later by some fresh, sliced strawberries. "He _loves_ them, right after chocolate-chip cookies." All three men turned to look at Brian with an almost identical look of confusion at his reaction as he let out an exasperated, resigned breath. He felt decidedly in the minority at the moment and it was not a feeling he was accustomed to.

"Shit," he muttered under his breath as he took a sip from his coffee and averted his head to stare out the window. "This is going to be a _long_ road trip." Justin chuckled at him as he shook his head in defeat. "I think I'll leave you sweet-tooth weirdoes to yourselves," he growled as he scooted back from his chair; he could distinctly hear snickering behind him as he grabbed his coffee and cell phone to walk over to one of the two couches and plop down unceremoniously as far away from the kitchen table as he could get. Unfortunately in an RV, that wasn't very far, but it was far enough to avoid some of the sickeningly-sweet smell. "I have some work to do anyway," he flipped his phone open and began to pull up the internet as the three men savored their pancakes. A few seconds later he let out an expletive.

"What?" Justin asked him curiously as he swirled a bite of pancake in the chocolaty syrup and turned to gaze at his husband. Even if Brian hadn't uttered a word, it was obvious he was clearly agitated by what he was reading. He was actually used to Brian's occasional grunts and other editorial comments as he looked over the day's headlines, so the reaction wasn't exactly unexpected, but he could tell this was not his standard diatribe.

"I'm looking at the front page of the _Reading Bulletin_," he told Justin, keeping his eyes craned on the screen in front of him. "There's a very impressive photo of Fin plastered all over the front page."

"That's _good_," Justin answered tentatively, puzzled by the tone of Brian's voice as all three men turned to peer over at him.

"Yeah… Except for the headline underneath it. _Is Pennsylvania Ready for a Gay Governor?_ That's just fucking great," Brian growled. "They don't want to look at his record or his platform; all they care about is that he's queer." He snapped his phone shut and looked over at the others. "About what I expected, though," he decided. "That's why we have to do what we're doing. This is such a conservative state; it's up to us to make them realize who we fuck doesn't mean a goddamn thing when it comes to who's best qualified." He brushed one hand through his hair in agitation and sighed. Some day he hoped that a person's character and deeds would mean more than who they slept with at night.

"It's time to get this show on the road," he decided abruptly as he flipped his phone back open and made a quick call to the bus parked nearby. Receiving confirmation that all of Fin's staff was back on board and ready to leave, he rose from the couch and walked over to sit in the leather driver's seat. Turning the ignition on, the RV's powerful engine roared to life.

Despite his earlier disgust, Brian couldn't help smiling just a little as he placed his hands on the steering wheel; this was definitely much different than the 'Vette he normally drove and it made him feel powerful and invulnerable. As if reading his thoughts, he felt Justin's hands on his shoulders from behind and heard him whisper in his ear, "Just remember – no mowing down the opposition," before he sat down next to him in the other chair.

Brian grinned over at him. "You take all the fun out of it," he quipped, curling his lips under. He twisted his head to observe Fin and Tony standing side by side at the sink like some happily-married lesbo couple, Tony rinsing off the dishes under the faucet while Fin obediently placed them in the soapy water. "Shit – they're worse than WE are," he muttered to Justin under his breath. At least Justin didn't expect him to help rinse off the dinner dishes at night, although he _was _known to snap a kitchen towel or two at his husband's perky little ass from time to time to get some 'after-dinner entertainment' started.

"I heard that," Tony called over as Justin laughed. "Justin just doesn't have you trained properly yet; it's called a plea bargain deal."

Brian snorted. "It's called being a pu…"

"Brian," Justin warned him before he could complete his sentence. "Let's get going," he urged him. "Looks like the bus is leaving already."

Brian sighed. "Yes, Boss," he replied as he put the large vehicle in gear and slowly pulled out of the dealer's lot. A few minutes later, they were following along behind the bus at a steady clip on I-70 east toward their destination.

As Tony and Fin relaxed temporarily on one of the couches, Justin simply enjoyed sitting in the passenger chair from his perch up high, observing the rolling scenery and marveling at their ability to see practically everything from such an elevated position. A few truckers passed them along the way on the multi-lane road, turning their heads to peek curiously into the luxurious-looking vehicle. He noticed some of them quickly returned their eyes back to the road if they noticed Brian staring them down, some smiled slightly or nodded, while others had that contemptuous, homophobic look on their faces, clearly recognizing who was riding inside from the banner displayed prominently on the side of the RV and not happy at all about it. One man, however, looked over at Brian and gave him a thumbs up, which made Justin smile back at him and wave.

"Well, at least he has _one _supporter," Justin stated, as Brian sped up a little to pass the truck by. "Did you see the thumbs up he gave us?"

"He was flirting with me," Brian decided. "After all, I AM irresistible."

Justin snorted. "How do you know he doesn't have a thing for blonds?"

Brian stared straight ahead as he replied, "Well, unless you want to change your occupation to truck stop rent boy, maybe you'd better quit encouraging them, then. They couldn't _afford_ MY price."

"Oh, brother," Justin muttered as he heard Tony and Fin laughing at them from their places on the couch. "Tell me again why I agreed to come along on this expedition."

"Because you can't live without me," Brian replied easily. "And because without ME, you have no way of _relieving your stress _while I'm gone," he said, his voice a husky octave lower. The meaning was clear to his husband. _No Brian, no sex_. To emphasize his point, Brian reached over and gave Justin's crotch a squeeze, evoking a soft groan in return. "As the good attorney would say, case closed," he replied as he shrugged and turned his eyes back to the road.

"Man's right, Justin," Tony called out from behind them. "Open and shut case; he's got you dead to rights. Trust me – a week without sex is worse than a week behind bars; or so I heard, anyway," he hastily added as Justin arched his eyebrows at him. "Hey, I go to _visit _clients, not sleep over."

Justin grinned as he stood up and stretched his arms high over his head. He yawned as Brian remarked, "What's wrong, Sunshine? Had to get up at a decent hour for a change?" They had had to wake up before six to make sure they were ready to leave this morning on time. "Not enough beauty sleep?"

"I'm always beautiful," he quipped as Brian smirked at him. "Just like you're always irresistible." He walked over and kissed Brian on the cheek before turning to walk back and sit in one of the overstuff chairs next to Fin and Tony's place on the couch. "So, how do these town meetings work, anyway?" he asked Fin, who was studying some notes on his laptop.

Fin glanced over at Justin with a grimace. "I wish I had a magic ball to answer that question," he stated. "That's just it – from what I've seen and what I've been told by some of my colleagues who have _endured_ that unique experience, you never really know what you're going to run into until you get there. They could fawn all over me or spit in my face. I DO know one thing – they're not known to be civilized discourses most of the time, so I need to be prepared for some conflict."

"You're not really worried about that, though, are you?" Tony asked him, still a little concerned about his partner's preoccupation for what they would be encountering. It wasn't like Fin to back down from a challenge; on the contrary, he normally flourished in those situations.

To his relief, his partner responded firmly, "Hell, no! I mean, it'd be nice to really know what to expect because I don't like going into ANY situation blindsided. But I'm not going to change any of my platform or beliefs just to make voters happy, or change what I want to say. If they don't believe in what I stand for, then I'd rather not have them vote for me anyway. It's not like I can't continue making some effective changes as Senator if worse comes to worse," he pointed out.

Tony reached over to grasp his hand and squeeze it as he smiled at him softly. "No, it doesn't," he agreed. "But just think of how much more you could do from the Governor's mansion." He grinned. "And there's also free room and board to consider, too – for _both_ of us."

Fin snorted. "You're not fooling me, Cassinelli; I know you're not going to like the invasion of privacy one little bit. If you think it's bad now, just wait until you wind up as the live-in partner of Pennsylvania's first gay Governor. You'll have to use ALL your disguises then, maybe even some new ones."

Justin wrinkled his brow as he looked at the two older men. "Disguises?"

Fin grinned. "Yeah – you're looking at the best-looking drag queen attorney in Pennsylvania; at least until recently. If Tony hadn't gone into law, he could have been one hell of a makeup artist; he came up with some real doozies to fool the press – and it worked, too," he said, his voice reflecting a mixture of both pride over his partner's ability to put one over on the media, but also a tinge of regret that Tony had been subjected to enduring such subterfuge at his expense. He was relieved that their relationship was finally out in the open, but from now on they were definitely going to pay the price for their openness with a definite lack of freedom and privacy. He suspected that it would be the same for Brian and Justin, too.

His face sobered as he told his partner softly, "I'm sorry you had to go through all that, Tony; you deserved better from me."

Tony squeezed his hand once more. "It's all in the past now, Fin. Let it go. _I_ have." He looked over at Justin, who nodded, before he added, "It's time to do battle with the homophobes and the right-wing wackos, and if anyone can do it, I know _you _can. And we all need is to put up a united front to do battle with them."

Fin felt his throat tightening in gratitude; how had he gotten so lucky to have found this magnificent, fierce spitfire of a man? Tony had never pulled any punches with him, had never coddled him or tried to mask how he really felt. He had always been brutally honest with him, no matter how painful it had been, and it was – and had been – just what he had needed. He would forever be grateful to Tony for that because it only made him stronger, and his love for this man grew deeper and deeper every day. He bolstered him, he encouraged him, he made him strive for dreams he might have deemed unattainable on his own.

From his position in the driver's seat, Brian listened attentively to the conversation going on behind him. He had been fortunate that he and Justin had never had a reason to hide their relationship or sexuality from others, unlike Tony and Fin. Once Justin had disclosed his sexual orientation to his family, he had never gone back 'into the closet,' nor would he have agreed to. Justin's father had been an outright prick about the whole thing – discarding his son like a wad of chewed-up gum not worthy of stepping on once he had found out he was gay – and his own parents had condemned him to a perpetual hell for what he had allowed himself to 'become,' as if he had had a choice in the matter. But at least he and Justin had never had to hide who they truly were from the rest of the world, even though it had created havoc in his husband's life, especially, at times. It had _also _made Justin one tough-minded, determined man, though, a man that Brian both admired and loved dearly and was proud to call his husband.

Justin reached over and placed his hand on top of theirs. "I couldn't agree more," he said softly. "We're in this together. And Turner's not going to know what fucking _hit_ him," he vowed confidently.

Tony and Fin placed their over hands on top of Justin's in a show of solidarity briefly before they all broke apart with identical grins on their faces.

Brian rolled his eyes from his place behind the driver's wheel. "Don't expect me to change your campaign slogan to _All for One and One for All_ anytime soon, d'Artagnan," he replied in a snarky tone to his father, almost expecting one of them to be calling out 'break' from their huddle soon before they all broke apart from their mutual admiration society. "It cost your campaign a fucking mint to have those new banners and print ads produced." Brian had secretly cut his father's campaign a break when Kinnetik had produced them; he hadn't told his father that, however. That smacked too much of sounding too touchy-feely for his taste, and he and his father weren't going to be nominated for any father-son of the year awards, at least not yet. He and Fin were more cordial toward one another now, and Brian silently hoped that their relationship would continue to evolve, but you didn't wipe away a lifetime of ignorance about each other in a few short months' time.

"Don't worry… I LIKE my new slogan," Fin reassured Brian. He leaned over to give Tony a kiss on the cheek in gratitude, though, for his support before his partner stood up. "If you'll excuse me, I'm going to go check my emails for a minute," the attorney told the other two men who nodded; he walked back toward the rear of the vehicle to retrieve his laptop from his and Fin's bedroom. His two-week separation from the office would be anything but a vacation; despite handing some of his caseload over to his associates temporarily, he had made it clear he wanted to stay in the loop on all his more critical cases. Fortunately, it would be relatively easy to do between email correspondence, cell phone calls, and Skype conferences.

Justin watched his friend go with admiration. "He's really something, Fin," he told his father-in-law. "You know, if it hadn't been for him I never would have been able to gain access to you." He grinned. "At the time, though, I thought he was either a nosy, inventive reporter who just happened to know the secret passages inside the building, or else he was some political groupie or lobbyist. But when he came in through that janitor closet and straight into your personal suite, I didn't know WHAT to think."

Fin smiled. "Yeah, he's a master of disguises in a LOT of ways." He peered over at Justin. "He keeps me honest and doesn't take any bullshit from me. Sometimes I think he knows me even better than I know myself. But I wouldn't have it any other way." Fin knew all too well how close he had come to losing Tony, and if he had, it would have been the biggest fucking mistake of his life. He couldn't imagine ever living without his partner and no matter what happened, he firmly intended for Tony to always be by his side.

He turned his head as he heard a soft snort come from the front of the vehicle, following by Brian saying softly, "Sounds like someone _else_ I know."

Fin grinned at Justin as he leaned over to whisper to his son-in-law, "And he _also _knows how damned lucky HE is, too, trust me." He rose from his place at the couch to join Brian up front, sliding his long, lean body into the seat previously vacated by Justin. Peering over at his son, his asked, "How long until we get to Reading?"

"About half an hour," Brian told him as he eyed a small, red compact car that raced by them at twice their speed; he felt like he was driving a dinosaur at the moment. As a matter of fact, he could never recall a time where he had ever read about an RV getting a speeding ticket – now he knew why. "This is the slowest damned thing I've ever driven," he muttered in disgust, the 'glamour' quickly rubbing off now.

Fin chuckled. "Goes against your nature, does it?"

Brian glanced over at father as he replied, "Well, I prefer quick and efficient, not slow and sluggish any day."

Fin grinned at him, knowing Brian wasn't talking just about vehicles anymore. "Well, let's see how 'quick and efficient' this meeting is when we show up and we're surrounded by a wall of media."

"You'd better hope that we _are_," Brian told him flatly. "As much as I hate those snakes, that's one of the reasons why we're doing this in the first place. We need to get your name out there as much as possible, and then we can focus on getting your viewpoint across. The two have to go hand-in-hand; you're not going to win any campaign without publicity _or_ the backing of your constituents."

Fin turned to stare at his son with respect. "If I didn't know better, I'd say you did this for a _living_. Sid was never this organized." As Brian glanced over at him in puzzlement, he explained. "Sid was my campaign manager for all my senatorial races; he'd been with me ever since my first campaign. We met in college – we were in the same fraternity." Fin smiled. "And believe me, we did a LOT of fraternizing; we got kicked out of more bars back then."

"What? No panty raids?" Brian quipped.

Fin smirked. "I was more interesting in checking out the guys in the showers than stealing women's underwear, although no one else knew that." He sobered as he added, "Back then, I was too fucking nervous to tell my fraternity brothers that I was gay."

"Why?" Brian knew that Fin had hid his being gay from the voters for years; he supposed he shouldn't be too surprised then, that it had been the same in college as well.

"You have to remember, Brian. I wasn't like you; I was too concerned back then with what it might do to my possible political career. I ran for Senior Class President my final year and won; that was the start of a long string of campaigns ever since."

"I know," Brian replied. "All wins, too. Seventh District Congressman twice, State Senator the past ten years, Chairman of the State Budget Committee, Member of the Environmental Resources & Energy Committee, and Co-Chairperson of the Finance Committee. Did I miss any?"

Fin smiled warmly, impressed that his son had done his homework thoroughly. "Just one: I was secretary-treasurer of my 12th-grade mock Democratic Convention that was held in the gym. We had a roll call and everything. Of course, our candidate lost that year to the Republicans."

Brian smiled as he watched another trucker drive by on his left; just like all the others, the man, a burly, tattooed redhead, couldn't help glancing over at the two men seated at the front of the vehicle. He seemed to recognize Fin as he gave him a lopsided grin and a nod before accelerating out of range.

"I never noticed how many trucks were on the road until today," Brian remarked as he shook his head before he returned to their conversation. "So where DID you go to college?"

"Carnegie Mellon."

"You're shitting me." He was surprised with the amount of research that he had done that he had never uncovered that tidbit of information.

Fin shook his head. "No – it was always my first choice ever since I was in junior high; I was always into history and political science and it stood out as the obvious place to go after I did my checking into their majors and overseas study opportunities they offered. I wanted to stay in the state and to me, it was the best. But my parents didn't see it that way; it was either go to their alma mater in town or come up with thousands of dollars to go where I wanted to go. They just didn't have enough money to afford the tuition there, and didn't see the real difference between going to a state college or attending a prestigious, private one." He let out a whoosh of air as he recalled, "I had to work my butt off to go there, even with the partial scholarship I managed to snag. But it was worth every hard-earned penny." He noticed Brian staring at him strangely. "What?"

"Well, I did a lot of research on you, but apparently you didn't on ME; that's where _I_ went, too."

Now it was Fin's turn to gape. "You're kidding."

Brian shook his head. "No, that's where I went, all right. But unlike YOU I _enjoyed_ my additional extra-curricular activities. The guys were really hot there."

Fin's mouth twisted up wryly in one corner. "Yeah… they were when _I _was there, too. But I think you enjoyed them more than _I_ did."

"I'm sure I did," Brian assured him, knowing it must have been hard for his father not to act on his true feelings. "You missed out."

"Yeah," Fin told him solemnly. "I did. I missed out on a lot." _Including watching you grow up and be a part of your life. "_But I'm not retreating now," he told him as he glanced back to see Tony emerging back into the living room area. "It's full steam ahead and damn the consequences."

"Good," Brian told him. "Because I expect – and demand – nothing less or I wouldn't be doing this." The two men sat in companionable silence for several seconds, the lack of noise inside the RV permeated only occasionally by Tony and Justin talking quietly behind them, until Brian asked, "Did you look over the notes I made for you on your laptop?"

Fin nodded. "Yeah." He eyed him intently. "You're very thorough."

"Damn straight I am; it's either all the way or don't fucking bother at all."

Fin nodded again. "I'm glad you agreed to do this, Brian," he said softly. "And not just because a couple of blonds co-conspirators decided you would be good at it." He looked down at his lap, suddenly a self-conscious father and not a self-assured, confident politician as he explained, "I'm glad we'll have a chance to get to know each other better." He lifted his gaze to notice Brian peering over at him briefly before he watched him turning his eyes back onto the road. "I know I have a lot of making up to do."

Brian shrugged, feeling a lump in his throat all of a sudden. "You didn't even know about me, Fin," he pointed out. "It is what it is."

"That doesn't mean I don't regret it or it can't be better, though… If that's what you want, too. Is it?" he asked quietly, not realizing he was holding his breath as he waited for his son to reply.

Brian considered that question; what exactly _did_ he want to gain from this road trip and being Fin's campaign manager? He knew this wasn't just some interesting challenge for him, although the thought of leading such a powerful campaign _did_ certainly appeal to him. This was such a big high for him – being handed this awesome responsibility – but if he were truthful with himself, it just wasn't being able to command such an important undertaking. He really _did_ long to get to know his real father better, and when he had arranged the RV for their mode of transportation, the thought had crossed his mind that in such close quarters he and his father would _have_ to get to know each other better; it was inevitable. Whether it would lead to them becoming closer or merely being more cordial and polite to one another, though, it remained to be seen. But he had to admit; he admired his father's convictions and his willingness to step outside his comfort zone. While Fin may have been less than courageous in admitting his sexuality earlier, he was trying furiously to make up for it now, no matter what the consequences were or the eventual outcome. If his father _did _lose – and Brian had every intention of seeing that that didn't happen – at least he will have given it his best shot. While that wasn't the most optimal outcome, it wasn't one to be ashamed of, either.

"My job is to get you elected Governor," he began as he glanced over at Fin, noticing a cloud appear on his face; was it disappointment? Sorrow? Regret? He suddenly felt out of his element; he wasn't the most forthright person when it came to indicating his innermost emotions to others and this was no exception. Even with his willingness to be more open with Justin now, telling anyone else how he really felt was still so difficult for him. As he looked over at his father, however, who clearly was showing interest in what he had to say, he felt compelled to add softly, "But if it should result in us getting to know each other better, too… that might not be all that bad, either."

The smile that broke out on his father's face just then was such a genuine one, it made his own heart flutter in response. It was the first time that any of his 'parents' had ever shown any real interest in wanting to get to know him for who he truly was, not for whom they wanted him to be, and he found that he liked it. It was an odd feeling, an alien feeling, but it was kind of nice.

Fin nodded. "Good," he said simply, before he slid off the captain's chair. He hesitated for just a moment before he reached over and squeezed Brian's shoulder briefly from behind. "I'll be in the back, getting ready for the town meeting," he said as Brian simply nodding, suddenly not trusting his voice to speak. Why had that choked him up so much? He wasn't sure, but it had. Swallowing hard, he gripped the steering wheel tightly, his thoughts a swirl of emotions as they neared their destination.

* * *

Fifteen minutes later, Brian slowed the cumbersome vehicle down to navigate a curve in the road; they were less than three miles now from the elementary school where he had arranged for Fin to meet with his first group of non-district constituents. This first meeting, heralded as a 'talk and mingle,' casual sort of give-and-take session, had been publicized widely throughout the Reading area, along with a more general press release to the major Pennsylvania newspapers and web sites in hopes that there would be state-wide coverage as well.

As they neared the speaking site, Brian's grip on the steering wheel tightened and his body tensed up. Normally, unknown equations didn't faze him; in advertising, he knew his territory well and was never nervous about what he would encounter, confident that he could handle any unexpected issues that might arise. _This_, however, while similar in nature to selling a product, was in an entirely different arena, and he found himself feeling inexplicably nervous the closer they got to their location. At this point, he really had no idea how many people would show up, but he had already contacted the local police department to have private security arranged for the area immediately surrounding the stage from which Fin would be speaking just in case. He didn't know how receptive the audience would be to his father's appearance, but he _did_ know from what he had read in the local paper, as well as other online sources, that Fin's first stop had been widely covered and would in all likelihood be heavily attended as a result of the media's reporting of it.

The ringing of his cell phone jolted him slightly as he reached in his pocket to flip it open. He recognized the number as one belonging to Don Meyers, Fin's old college chum. "Kinney," he replied into the phone.

"Brian, it's Don Meyers. Just a heads-up; you'd better park the vehicle around the back. There's a shitload of people out front, including all kinds of media..."

"Press coverage is a good thing," Brian interrupted him a little impatiently; the man was hired by Fin to help with security, not publicity.

"Yeah, it is," Meyers retorted, a little miffed Brian hadn't let him finish. "But not so much the picketers and hate-mongers."

Justin walked up just then to place both of his hands on Brian's shoulders from behind, feeling the hard, rigid muscle underneath. He silently began to knead his husband's shoulders to try and relieve some of the stress as he listened in to Brian's side of the conversation. He turned his head slightly as he heard Fin and Tony joining him; it seems they were all curious about the reception Fin's appearance was engendering.

"Picketers and hate-mongers?" Brian echoed, feeling a slight pit in the bottom of his stomach. That was not good, but on the other hand, it was not totally unexpected, either.

"Yeah," the other man replied, the disgust apparent in his voice. "I think the tamest sign they were carrying was one that said, _Queers Go Home."_

Brian rolled his eyes. "Lovely," he commented dryly. "Will these people never think up something _original_?" He sighed in disgust. "All right; I understand. We'll see you in a few minutes."

"Okay… I've got the police blocking off the back entrance so no one else can enter; we'll keep an eye out for you and Fin."

"Understood." Brian flipped his cell phone shut with a snap with one hand and placed it back into his pocket as he turned to look at his father, his knuckles white as he gripped the steering wheel. "That was your buddy Don. He told me members of the Queer Haters Fan Club were parked outside the front of the school with their latest art projects. At least that's what _I _would call them, anyway."

Justin and Tony locked gazes, both worried for Fin and Brian's safety. "Brian…"

"It's okay, Justin," Brian told his husband. "We're going to park at the rear of the building now, and the police have that access blocked off already. We'll just have to mow down a few protestors out front to get past our _admirers_, that's all." As Justin walked around the seat to stand next to him, Brian noticed Justin wasn't amused one iota by his teasing assessment of the situation. "It'll be okay," he repeated softly. "We all knew this was to be expected. I've got plenty of security to keep an eye out for him."

"What about _you_?"

Brian reached over to clasp his husband's hand firmly in reassurance, feeling just the slight tremor of nervousness underneath. "I'll be fine. _Fin's_ the one everyone will be concentrating on, anyway, not me."

Justin licked his lips a little anxiously. He knew Brian was right – Fin was the one going to be in the spotlight, and this reaction wasn't totally unexpected; in fact, all of them had pretty much been counting on something like this to happen, at least to some degree. But now that they were about to go from the frying pan into the fire, his heart was beginning to race with worry for the man he loved, as well as for Brian's father. As he looked over at Tony, he knew he was no doubt thinking the same thing; he could read it all over his face.

He breathed out a heavy breath as he noticed Tony silently reach over to clasp Fin's hand as well. He felt a little foolish for both of them, as if they were anxious Army wives waiting for their husbands to go into battle, but he couldn't help it. It felt the same way to him. This _was_ a battle – a battle against foolish fears, bigotry and hatred. He just wished it was one they didn't need to undertake, but they did.

"Here we go," Brian murmured as he observed a glass marquee sign on their immediate right that read _Elmwood Elementary School_ across the top. Per his instructions, the lawn had been blanketed with a large awning to shelter the attendees from the bright glare of the sun and provide shade while Fin spoke from the brick steps at the front of the building. One of the new campaign banners, a much larger version of the same vinyl one hanging from both the campaign bus and the RV, was hanging down from the top of the school's rooftop just as he had instructed, broadcasting the new tone and message he was hoping to convey for the rest of the campaign. He wanted his father's strategy to be one that would paint him as new, fresh, innovative, and no-nonsense, nothing like the jaded, predictable, boring, and inefficient politician that everyone had had to endure under the present incumbent governor's term. Governor Dwight Madison, a Republican, was expected to endorse Turner soon as his choice for the next Governor, but he was being noticeably quiet about doing so. Brian had made it one of his goals to thoroughly investigate why there appeared to be a holdup in the man's endorsement of his Republican heir-apparent; was there a rift of some kind brewing there? If so, it might just work to their advantage. For now, though, as he turned the bus into the blacktop drive and noticed the horde of media, protestors, and just plain curious people packed onto the lawn, listening to some no-name, local band that Brian had advised Mark Leon to secure for entertainment purposes prior to their arrival, he knew there were more urgent matters that needed to be addressed first.

As he pulled into the semi-circular drive, he was forced to slow down even more as their presence was noticed and several media types rushed toward the bus to be the first ones to record his arrival. "Shit!" he growled as one man came perilously close to fulfilling Brian's threat earlier; the man came within a hair's breadth of being hit by the front left quarter of the bus as he practically walked into their path in his determination to be first. "Don't tempt me, you shithead!" Brian exclaimed as he slowed down to avoid hitting the man. He heard Justin gasp beside him as the man barely missed being injured when he jumped back just in the nick of time.

"This is fucking crazy!" Tony exclaimed in shock as he peered out at the sea of faces. He had hoped that his partner's appearance at his first impromptu town meeting would draw a crowd, but it seemed like the entire town of Reading had traveled here to hear him speak. The front parking lot, which must have held at least a couple hundred cars, was filled to capacity, and there were at least six or seven satellite media trucks with camera booms parked in the grassy area on the opposite side of the parking lot to the right of the school's front entrance. He recognized several call letters from out-of-town stations, including one from their home town of Harrisburg and a couple from Pittsburgh. Obviously, Fin and Brian's hope that the event would be publicized state-wide and widely attended had been more than fulfilled.

What concerned him, though, were the _other_ attendees. Several people were gathered along the drive, many holding up signs and chanting something he couldn't quite understand through the closed windows of the RV. From the messages they were carrying, however, it didn't take a lip-reader to know what sort of vitriolic nonsense they were shouting. He noticed a couple of signs that appeared to be spray painted in multiple colors of the rainbow that said _Queers Rot in Hell_, and another one that said, _No Fags for Governor._ Still a third one said, _Marraige is between a man and a woman, not Adam and Steve._

As Brian navigated through the rowdy crowd, and a policeman waved them through the iron gate that prevented others from following, he heard his father sigh beside him as he slowed the RV down to park next to the campaign bus directly behind the school's back entrance. "_This_ is going to be their main focus on who does and who doesn't become their next governor?" he muttered to the others.

"Not unless you let it become that," Brian told his father as he stood up and stretched his upper body backward to get some of the stiffness out.

"Well, I won't," Fin told him defiantly. "There's much more to me and what I want to do as Governor than waste my time with defending who my partner is." He glanced over at Tony, whose eyes were watering sentimentally, and he felt his heart soften in response.

"I'm glad to hear that," Brian told him as he noticed the other members of their entourage walking over to join them. "But you're still going to have to acknowledge it." As much as it pained him, Brian knew the issue of Fin's sexuality would continue to plague them until they hit it head on.

"Oh, I plan on it," Fin replied curtly as Tony walked over and grasped his upper arm in support. "There's no way that I can NOT address it – not with those homophobic assholes out there shouting at the top of their lungs and waving those hateful signs. But it will be dealt with and then I plan on moving on. I'm not going to give them anymore face time than absolutely necessary, and I'm NOT going to allow them to dictate what my campaign is all about. It's about making some major policy changes in this state to improve things and make them better, not worrying about who someone is sleeping with at night."

Brian found himself looking at his father with approval; perhaps he did get his balls from his father after all, because that was precisely the way he would play it as well. He slid his arm around Justin's waist as his husband leaned into him and he said, "I couldn't have said it better myself. Now let's get this show started – we've got a few dozen homophobic pricks to take care of – and a campaign to win."

Fin grinned at him and nodded, pleased to get his son's approval. He pushed a nearby button that automatically opened the side door as the rest of their group stepped inside. Even from the relative privacy and quiet of the rear part of the building, Fin and his supporters could hear clearly the shouts of protestors out front, confirming just how vocal they were being.

"Well, they have a good set of lungs on them, I'll give them that much," Fin remarked as he turned to look at Kirk, his speechwriter.

Littleton seemed concerned as he asked, "You want me to jot down some possible rebuttals to their protests?"

Fin shook his head. "No… I can handle them. I've handled difficult and stubborn people before; this really isn't any different. It's time I showed them that their bigotry and ignorance isn't going to make me back down; in fact, it's going to make me even _more_ resolved to get my issues and platform across so everyone can make a decision based on qualifications, not on fear or hatred."

"But it still might be a good idea to…"

"No," Fin told Kirk firmly. "I don't want everyone thinking I need to rehearse what I'm going to say to those people. I want my responses to come from the heart, not from a pat, prepared speech."

Kirk nodded his reluctant agreement; he respected his boss for his stance, and understood his position. He knew normally Fin was easily capable of speaking on the fly and quite spontaneously; he silently hoped, though, that his normally unflappable, glib boss's gift wouldn't fail him in what would be the most crucial of times. "Okay," he told Fin. "We'll go with what we prepared, then, for your opening remarks and just roll with the punches."

Fin winced. "Maybe _punches _isn't the best word to use," he said as everyone smiled at the tension breaker. He turned to look at his executive assistant's son, who was noticeably quiet. "Everything in place, Adam? Looks like your men did a great job of preparing the school for the meeting."

Adam forced himself to plaster on a professional-looking game face as he nodded. "Thanks," he told Fin. "Everything's ready to go; I checked the sound system just before you got here to verify we're live whenever you're ready to begin. You'll be entering from the rear of the school." As he watched Fin nod in understanding and the group slowly disembarked from the RV, however, he unobtrusively hung back out of sight, his blood pressure rising as he seethed inside. The man's audacity never ceased to astound him; he was treating the whole issue of his homosexuality as if everyone _else_ was the prejudiced bigot and in the wrong, when FIN was the perverted one. HE and his so-called partner, along with Kinney and his 'homo husband,' were the minorities, the degenerates. His father, a Methodist preacher, had taught him clearly what was right and normal, and Fin and his group were the antithesis of that belief.

When he had first agreed to join O'Connor's staff at the urging of his mother, he had had no idea that the man he had frequently seen in the senator's office had been nothing but a good friend. After all, O'Connor hosted numerous guests in his office, whether they were old buddies, former and present colleagues, or lobbyists. Even the President himself had visited a few times, along with some well-known non-political celebrities. He had found the environment both stimulating as well as exciting. How naïve he had been, he thought now with derision. He had actually felt honored and fortunate to be working amongst one of the most influential, respected senior members of the State Senate, basking in being a member of a dedicated group of idealists determined to promote much-needed changes in the State. And he had actually agreed with the majority of Fin's proposals regarding the environment, the disabled, and the less-fortunate, all issues that his own father had espoused as being worthy of assistance in his many sermons.

But that had all flown out the window once he had learned that O'Connor was a queer, an abomination. Everything he had been taught about right and wrong from his father had promptly been scorned and ridiculed by the man he had grown to actually admire, and the knowledge filled him with both contempt as well as shame over being so easily manipulated and fooled. The worst part of all, though, was the fact that his own _mother_ tolerated the man's perverse lifestyle, even _accepted_ it. He knew that she and his father had had numerous verbal donnybrooks regarding her insistence on continuing to work for a man who stood for such diametrically opposed beliefs as her husband's, but she had steadfastly refused to resign from her job, stating that her boss was a man of great character and resolve that she actually _admired_. She had no intention, either, of sacrificing several years' worth of pension and retirement benefits merely because of her husband's 'stubborn one-sidedness.' The result had been his parents separating; soon, their marriage of 33 years would be dissolved completely, and Adam placed the blame squarely on Fintan O'Connor's arrogant shoulders.

Deciding that he had to make O'Connor pay for his role in the breakup of his parents' marriage, as well as do his part to prevent the man from becoming their state's next Governor, he set out to achieve his goal in the most effective way he knew how: going to work secretly for the opposition. Now, as he watched the members of his group walking over toward the back entrance of the school in preparation for the town meeting, Adam smiled. The beginning of Fintan O'Connor's downfall was about to begin.


	17. Courage and Strength

_Fin arrives at his first town meeting and prepares to give his first speech; how will the crowd react? A great big thank you to boriqua522 for being my eagle eyes on this chapter and the next! Thank you, my friend.:  
_

* * *

Justin glanced over at Brian, who was in a deep discussion near the back door with Fin and their speechwriter, Kirk, no doubt reviewing what they should talk about during the town meeting. Of course, when they had initially prepared some notes for today, they hadn't planned on the crowd being quite so vocal in their response; even located at the rear of the building and with the sound being muffled by the large, brick façade between them and the crowd, Justin and Tony, who was walking next to him, had no problem hearing the raucous shouts coming from the front of the school, although they couldn't quite make out what the protestors were actually saying.

Justin leaned in to whisper in Tony's ear. "I wouldn't exactly call this a friendly crowd," he noted dryly as Tony turned to look at him and nodded.

"I know what you mean," he agreed. "It makes me a little worried, frankly," he said as he watched his partner talking quietly to Brian and Kirk as they moved to enter the back of the building. "It's one thing to have an opposing, civil discussion regarding Fin's policies, but from what I could see as we pulled in, this looks like more of an organized lynch mob rather than just some curious constituents coming out to hear what Fin has to say." He bit his lip in concern as they followed the other men into the building, finding the interior rather drab and dark. It was a typical older school, composed of scuffed, off-white linoleum tile floors and drab, beige walls, ringed on both sides by mustard-yellow metal lockers that looked like they must have been there since it was first built. He could hear their footsteps echoing off the walls as they proceeded slowly toward the front of the building.

Justin lightly grabbed Tony's arm to get his attention as the older man turned to look at him. "How worried _are_ you?" he asked a little anxiously, not really considering until then that there could actually be some sort of physical altercation that might take place. He _did _know from painful, personal experience, though, how divisive an issue gay rights could be. That wasn't really meant to be the focus of Fin's first town meeting, nor should it be; in fact, Brian had already told him that both he and Fin were going to steer clear of the issue unless it was specifically brought up by the crowd, not feeling like that should make a difference whether his father was qualified to be governor or not. They weren't going to shy away from it, either, but to both Brian and his father it was irrelevant to the campaign at hand. Fin's stance and past legislative record regarding the more important issues, such as Pennsylvania's high unemployment rate for manufacturing jobs in the state, his energy conservation goals, and his consistent fight for elder and children's rights, for example, were much more important indications of what sort of governor Brian's father would be than his sexual orientation. Unfortunately, though, both Justin and Tony knew all too well that common sense didn't always reign where emotions ran high like they apparently were going to do today.

"Let's just say that we all need to stay vigilant," Tony said as he watched his partner confidently stride toward the front entrance, his eyes never leaving the strong, tall figure getting ready to greet the impatient, boisterous crowd. "Just in case."

Justin didn't quite care for the ominous sound of that statement as he and Tony hurried to catch up with the rest of their contingent. Except for when Proposition 14 was placed on Pittsburgh's ballot and Stockwell was running for mayor, he had never really had much exposure to politics. And what little he _had_ been exposed to had just made him even more cynical and skeptical of the whole process. But he had faith in Fin, and he believed in him and his abilities. More importantly, he believed in Brian and was there to support him totally. He rushed to reach his husband as the group paused momentarily by the massive doors to the outside to catch their breath and composure. "Brian," he called out as his husband turned to look at him, his eyebrows raised in question. He firmly grasped Brian's wrist to get his attention.

"Yeah, Sunshine?" he whispered, the nickname escaping his lips unbidden; he didn't stop to think that others might find it either odd or, God forbid, _endearing_ as he waited for Justin to reply.

Justin couldn't help the small smile that appeared on his face in response to Brian's name for him as he quietly said, "Promise me you and Fin will be careful out there."

Brian stared into the bright blue eyes that were peering back at him with a mixture of both love and concern. He bestowed a lopsided, lazy smile on his husband, causing Justin's heart to flutter slightly in reaction as he replied, "They're not feeding us to the lions; they quit using that tactic a long time ago. I'm sure everyone will be quite civilized."

Justin snorted softly as he listened to the rowdy crowd outside. "Don't be so sure of that," he responded cryptically. "They don't sound all that friendly – or civil – to _me_." He subconsciously dug his fingers tighter into Brian's sleeve as he said, "Promise me, Brian. Promise me at the first sign of any unrest or danger that you and Fin will beat a hasty exit."

"Justin… You know I've never run away from a fight in my life. We all knew this might be a possibility from the start whenever you're dealing with ignorant, attention-grabbing homophobes. You just have to hope that the open-minded people outweigh the assholes and try to ignore the rest."

Justin eyed him back skeptically. He felt it was important to confront the bigoted people camped outside, too, but at what cost? "Brian…" he began anew.

Brian sighed softly over Justin's concern as he glanced over at the doors; they were on a tight schedule and running about fifteen minutes late already. He was a stickler for keeping to a strict timeframe when he was overseeing something important, and he felt it made a bad impression to start out on a late track with his father's campaign. "Justin, we have to get started," he told his husband. "Everything's going to be okay. We've got a security detail here, remember?" As the doors were opened by a couple of uniformed, off-duty policemen located to either side of the two old, wooden doors, Brian could readily hear the crowd growing even more vocal as his father prepared to step outside to commence with the town meeting. Turning to Justin one last time before the group emerged out into the burgeoning crowd, he suggested, "Maybe you and Tony should stay here until the meeting is over; we'll be coming back in this way afterward anyway."

"No, Brian," Justin told him adamantly as Tony nodded his agreement nearby. "There's no fucking way I'm hiding in the shadows like some scared little kid while you and Fin are out there on the battlefield."

Brian rolled his eyes at the melodramatic response, but he wasn't surprised Justin wouldn't go along with it; he figured it had been worth a shot anyway. "Okay, then, gentlemen," he said to Justin, Tony, and Fin. "Let's get this dog and pony show on the road." He quickly grabbed Justin's hand and pulled him forward for a quick, reassuring kiss on the lips before they began to walk toward the front doors.

As the rest of Fin's bus entourage followed along behind the main group, Adam Stewart held back a bit, scowling at the spectacle O'Connor and his son were making of themselves. Didn't they realize they weren't wanted here? He had done everything he could to make sure that fact was clearly driven home; it had cost a pretty penny on Turner's bankroll to make sure there were plenty of hecklers congregated outside with just the right mixture of anti-gay, homemade-looking placards and vocal protests to O'Connor's appearance. As he slowly trudged along behind the others, he silently hoped it would be enough to get the point across to O'Connor that he wasn't welcome here, or anywhere else in the State.

Bright sunshine greeted O'Connor's group as they emerged from the interior of the building; as soon as they appeared, right on cue a local band Brian had hired began to play an up-tempo tune signaling his father's arrival on the impromptu platform set up on the broad cement steps of the school. As Fin took a deep breath and stepped up to the front of the podium, he was greeted with a myriad of emotions reflected on the faces and signs greeting him: there were several citizens holding up small U.S. flags or replicas of his new campaign poster, appearing excited and happy to see him in person, there were some that were clapping politely, looks of curiosity and just a little skepticism peering back at him, and then there were the _other_ faces: those etched with clear hatred and scorn for him and what he stood for; faces that showed expressions of wariness and hardness, their eyes narrowed and faces red with anger as they held up signs that carried sentiments such as _No Room For Fags, We Honor Our Values, Marriage Destroyer, _and his own personal favorite_, _the plain but simply stated_ Burn in Hell Homo_.

He glanced over at Brian, whose jaw was set in determination and something else he couldn't quite decipher, as he recognized Matt Kellerman, the Democratic District Senator from Berks County who was a close colleague in Harrisburg and had agreed to introduce him to the crowd. The two shook hands as Kellerman walked the few steps over to him, a look of disgust on his face. He nodded at Fin. "What a way to start out your campaign, Fin," he observed caustically. "This is not the welcome I was expecting, my friend."

Fin nodded as he spoke up to be heard over the din of the crowd and the music; Brian had instructed the band to play one, approximately 3-minute song to get the crowd warmed up and to give Fin enough time to get a handle on what he was confronting before he was introduced. "Me neither," Fin told him as he practically had to shout in his ear. "But it is what it is. Still willing to introduce me? I think it's a little early for all the tomatoes to ripen yet if you're afraid of being hit by any nice, juicy ones."

Kellerman laughed. "I hadn't thought of that; that's a relief." He sobered as his looked at his friend and replied seriously, "These idiots don't scare me. I'm honored to do this for you, Fin."

Fin nodded gratefully with a smile. "That means a lot to me. You're not afraid of committing political suicide?" He was painfully aware of how far Kellerman was sticking his neck out for him by doing this; as a result, he silently vowed later to acknowledge his gratitude later in some way.

"I'm _more_ afraid of not sticking up for my own convictions," Kellerman growled. "To hell with the ignorant homophobes. Besides, I think you can more than take care of yourself."

Fin grinned as Brian walked over to join them. "Matt, I'd like you to meet my campaign manager, Brian Kinney. Brian, this is Senator Matt Kellerman from here in Berks County; he's been a strong supporter of mine for a long time."

"Senator," Brian called back politely above the crowd noise as the two shook hands. He It didn't quite envy the man who had the responsibility of introducing his father to this raucous bunch, but he _did_ have respect for the man. "Nice to have you on our team," he added sincerely as Kellerman smiled and nodded. "You about ready for the introduction?"

"Yeah… Anytime you're ready to go." He looked over at Fin, who took a deep breath and then nodded his agreement. Brian nodded before he looked over at the band's point man and gave a motion across his neck signifying it was time to cut the song off; a few seconds later the band found a good spot to end it and the music somewhat abruptly stopped. That produced a slighter lower level of noise, but not much as Kellerman had hoped for as he shrugged slightly and stepped up to the microphone placed on top of the makeshift dais to speak. "Good Afternoon," he said, speaking authoritatively into the mike. He was a very familiar figure in Reading, having grown up there and having been the district senator for over two decades. He was well-liked as well as respected for his tenacity and persistence in going to bat for Berks County time and time again over the years. This time, however, just the mere sound of his voice wasn't going to be quite enough to quell the vociferous crowd all shouting at once. He noticed that it wasn't just the hatemongers, either; proponents of Fin's campaign run were shouting back for the others to shut up, which merely caused even _more_ disruption in the throng.

Finally, after a couple more attempts at quieting the crowd down, Kellerman took matters into his own hands as he retrieved the object he had brought with him that was hiding in a shelf inside the podium and pressed a button before raising it into the air.

Justin jumped as an air horn promptly blasted from out of nowhere right next to him. His eyes widened as he realized it had been used by the Senator that had just been introduced to Brian. From their place a few feet away, he and Tony exchanged a startled but amused look at the man's unorthodox method of noise control as the crowd quickly quieted down to a more tolerable level.

"That's more like it," Kellerman said firmly into the microphone as a squelch erupted from the apparatus when he got too close to it; the noise was akin to fingernails being scraped down an old-fashioned blackboard and set everyone's teeth on edge up on stage. Fortunately, it _also_ served to subdue the crowd a little more as the Senator began in a quieter tone of voice, "It is my distinct pleasure today to introduce to you a man who I have known and admired for a long time," Kellerman began as hundreds of pairs of eyes stared up at him; the sounds of hecklers could still be heard throughout the crowd trying to disrupt his introduction as he tried to maintain a firm semblance of control. "You all know me, and you know my record of voting in regards to the best interests of Berks County. I can assure you that I will continue to work for each and every one of you at the state level. However, there is a colleague of mine who can provide us with even _more_ representation in Pennsylvania; someone who will look out for our interests as well and who possesses a lot of the same values as I do; a man who has a tenacious spirit and drive that will fight the challenges head on that we will all be facing in the future with both courage and intelligence."

Tony winced inwardly as Kellerman continued to speak, the angry sounds of the hatemongers echoing throughout the congregation of people as their voices started to rise in volume again; he could hear snippets of their shouts clearly now, including several _fag_ and _queer_ references interlaced with profanities, and couldn't help thinking how out of place their words of hatred seemed amongst such a beautiful, sunny day. He glanced over at Fin, who stood there facing the crowd with a stony expression of resolve and determination on his handsome face. He knew inside, though, that the taunts and vitriolic language were affecting him; after all, he was human like everyone else and while he was adept at putting on a 'game face,' he knew this sort of backlash was precisely the reason why Fin hadn't come out to the public until recently, and that had only been after he had told his partner that he wouldn't live a lie any longer. At that moment he dearly wished that he could walk over and at least put his arm around Fin's waist in a show of support for him, but something held him back, not the least of which was a real sense of fear for his partner's safety at the moment. Because these hateful bigots weren't just disagreeable and obstinate in their protests, they were practically breathing fire out of their mouths as they shouted out Bible verses or spat out ugly nonsense about him.

He felt someone grasp his sleeve and turned his head to notice Justin's worried face mirroring his own. "This is getting downright dangerous," Tony leaned over and said in his ear. Justin nodded, his face creased with worry as he glanced over at Brian and Fin, who he noticed were talking to themselves while Kellerman was trying valiantly to continue. He could hear some of the participants trying to shout the hecklers down, yelling at them to give Fin a chance to speak, but the minority seemed intent on being even more vocal than the other, more sensible people in attendance and studiously ignored their entreaties.

"Please!" Kellerman shouted out, disgusted at how his own district's constituents were being so rude and unbending. "This is NOT helping anything! Give my colleague a chance to speak before you pass judgment on him!"

"We don't have to!" Justin heard someone shout out nearby; he could see a myriad of press people bunched up near the outskirts and the front of the crowd, no doubt recording every second of the confrontation taking place. "He's a fucking fag! We don't want his kind here!" He looked around for the source of the hateful shout as his gaze fell upon an older, graying, burly man wearing some type of navy-blue work uniform with a matching union cap, holding up a sign that said _Vote for Values, Not for Perversion_. "Throw him out!"

Justin's eyes flashed at the man's nonsense; he had heard that same sort of crap all his adult life and he was so weary of it. Why did people continue to judge someone's character on their sexual orientation? Did that make them any less human or less compassionate? Did it make them inferior or less capable of providing leadership? He shook his head in disgust as his eyes locked on Brian's. A lopsided smile of reassurance appeared on Brian's lips as Justin looked back at him sorrowfully and shook his head in disbelief. "This is unbelievable," he muttered in disgust to Tony as the crowd continued to fight amongst themselves. "Fucking unbelievable."

"I couldn't agree more," Tony replied as he eyed the crowd apprehensively, his dark blue eyes flashing. He peered over at Fin, trying desperately to catch his eye, but he noticed his partner's head was leaning close to Brian and Kellerman's as they discussed something. He wasn't sure what he would try to convey even if he _could _get his partner's attention, but he _did_ know one thing: this so-called, simple, initial attempt at becoming acquainted with his non-district constituency was fast becoming a logistical nightmare.

The sound of the air horn going off once more startled everyone just enough to quiet the voices down sufficiently as Kellerman turned his attention back to the crowd; Justin noticed he had obtained a megaphone somewhere and was using it to shout out angrily, "Enough with the bickering and hatred! Those of you who want to make an educated, informed decision about the best person to lead this state after the next election are welcome to come inside the gym and listen to what my friend and colleague has to say. The rest of you who insist on turning this into a hate-filled, bigoted, three-ring circus can stay out here and entertain _yourselves_! The meeting will start in ten minutes!" And with that Fin's contingent on the steps began to turn and filter back inside the school building as the security men blocked the would-be attendees from following temporarily so Fin's group could retreat back inside the structure first and prepare for the meeting. Don Meyers, Fin's old college chum and unofficial bodyguard, immediately went to action after Kellerman's statement, instructing the security detail to try and screen as many as the entrants as possible as they entered, although everyone realized with the large size of the crowd that would be easier said than done. He had instructed them at the very least, however, to do a light pat-down search and inspections of bagged items to make sure no weapons were being carried inside. If the person didn't like that restriction, then they could remain outside, bad publicity or not.

Fin and Brian held back temporarily as they waited for Tony and Justin to join them; both men knew how worried their lovers were about them and of one accord felt the need to reassure them that everything would be okay.

Tony rushed up to Fin, who didn't hesitate to place his hands on either side of Tony's face as he reassured him, "Everything's going to be fine, Tony."

"Fin…" For someone who never wanted to hide his true self, Tony felt inexplicably uncomfortable with his partner's display of affection. It wasn't that he was ashamed of Fin's open demonstration – on the contrary, he was both pleased as well as surprised by it – but he was more concerned with his partner's safety at the moment as he continued to hear the swell of hatred bubbling up from the crowd below. Calls of _fucking faggots _and _perverts_ filled the air nearby, but Fin didn't release Tony right away; instead he leaned in and gave him a quick kiss on the lips.

As Fin pulled back to look into his partner's worried but beautiful face, he said seriously, "This is who I am, Tony; if they can't accept that and look beyond the differences, then I say _screw 'em_."

Tony's eyes glistened as he smiled softly at his partner and replied, "They should _be_ so lucky."

Fin rewarded him with a lopsided grin as he grabbed Tony's hand. "Come on, Counselor, I've got a meeting to attend." Tony nodded as the two entered the building side by side, leaving only a few of Fin's supporters left on the steps, including his son and Don Meyers, who was still coordinating security for the group.

As Justin rushed over to Brian, his husband put one hand up and said, "Don't say it, Justin; I already know what you're about to say. So our plans have to change somewhat, that's all. We're not backing down, though, not matter _what_ you might say."

As Brian took Justin's wrist and began to move him toward the entrance, Justin leaned into his side to be heard better and told him as they walked toward the front doors, "No, you _don't _know what I was about to say." The crowd continued to shout angry words at them as they entered the building, both men breathing a sigh of relief as the noise abated somewhat, even though with the doors still open the calls of hatred were still easily discerned.

Brian stopped just inside the front entrance and firmly but gently tugged Justin toward the right into another hallway and out of the now constant flow of people now streaming into the school on their way to the gymnasium. He found an office nearby and pulled the two of them into the small alcove leading up to the door as he pushed Justin against the half-glass of the door marked _Principal_ and sighed as he stared into the stubborn blue eyes. "Justin, we can't slink away with our fucking tail between our legs or they've already won, don't you see that?"

Justin huffed out a breath of irritation. "Of _course_ I realize that, Brian! I got bashed in the head by a hypocritical closet queer and have a callous bigot for a father, remember? Not to mention I got to experience the joy firsthand of your almost successful campaign on behalf of Stockwell, the Number One bigot of all time! Why would you think I would want you and Fin to just give up, then?"

Brian's eyes widened; that was not the response he had been expecting. Not that he would ever think of Justin as weak or a shrinking violet; on the contrary, his husband could be as fiery and obstinate as they come. But he _also_ knew that when it came to him and his own welfare, sometimes Justin's normal behavior was skewed somewhat.

"I thought you were going to tell me the whole thing was too dangerous and that's it not worth it," he admitted as he stared down into Justin's large, expressive eyes that were intently boring into his. He could easily drown in those eyes, he thought, thinking he wouldn't mind just letting the rest of the crazy world disappear for a while, even if it was just for a few moments so he could find himself anchored to reality like he always did whenever he gazed into those calming eyes that were at once relatively young but also so old… So very, very old.

Justin sighed softly. "Well, the thought went through my mind," he conceded as he twisted up one side of his mouth wryly. "I never in my wildest dreams thought we'd run into _this _kind of crowd; it's almost as if it was orchestrated way ahead of time or something."

Brian shrugged. "Who knows? Maybe it was; politics is a dirty business, Sunshine – _very dirty_. I'm surprised you didn't figure that out just with Stockwell's campaign. Anything is possible when someone wants to win badly enough."

"I guess I _did _know that," Justin replied softly. "But I guess I naively thought that with such an important campaign as one for governor that the people might be more willing to listen to the candidates with an open mind, not with a hate-filled, bigoted one. Somehow even now after everything's that happened to us, I want to think the best of people; this has opened my eyes up, though," he told Brian, a tone of melancholy in his voice. He shuddered, Brian feeling the movement through his hands that were currently resting on Justin's upper shoulders.

Brian looked at him apologetically. "Look, I hate to do this, but I really have to go; I should be there in the gym when Fin begins his speech. I'm curious to see how it goes and I need to be there in case something _else_ goes wrong." His expression softened as he added, "You don't need to stay here, Sunshine; you can go back out to the RV and wait for us."

"No," Justin told him firmly as he shook his head. "I'm not going anywhere until you and Fin are safe and sound and back out there with me, and I'm sure Tony feels the same way. Where you go, I go."

Brian looked at him tenderly. "Okay, then," he said softly. He didn't even bother to look around to see who might be watching because at the moment he didn't fucking care as he leaned in to kiss Justin gently on the lips; they kissed deeply for several seconds, each seeking solace and strength from each other until Brian reluctantly broke it off. Justin sighed softly as Brian gently nudged his forehead with his own before whispering, "Let's go, then, Mr. Taylor-Kinney; my father's about to give them hell."

Justin smiled at him and nodded as, hand in hand, they proceeded back up the side hallway toward the main one that led to the gym, not noticing or caring who saw them and whether they approved or not.

A few minutes later, they threaded their way through the burgeoning crowd lining the hallway near the entrance to the gym as they noticed Don Meyers motioning for them to join him near a side door. "Hey," he called out as they approached. "This leads to the locker rooms; Fin's back there getting ready to come out near the basketball goal; Mark's found the PA equipment, so we'll use that for his speech and for the questions afterward."

"That should be interesting," Brian muttered as Don opened the door and he and Justin proceeded inside; the other man followed close behind them as he closed the door shut and promptly locked it to keep out any unwanted visitors. "I guess we'll find out then whether his fan club managed to get in or the KKK did."

* * *

"Justin! Over here!" Tony called out as he noticed him and Brian walking over from behind a group of lockers with Don Meyers following closely along behind. Fin was sitting on one of the old, wooden locker room benches, studying some notes for his speech, along with some data regarding subjects that might be brought up during the question and answer session afterward. Silently, Fin hoped that he would have the _chance_ to answer those types of questions regarding his platform; after the fiasco outside, he wasn't convinced his change of plans wouldn't result in the same sort of hateful nonsense that had been spewed outside, but it was a chance he had to take.

He glanced over at his partner, who was talking quietly to his son and Justin; his heart melted at the support he was receiving from Tony. It was obvious earlier when he had looked at Tony's face that he was worried about him, and with good reason he supposed. Even _he_ wasn't quite prepared for what had greeted them outside upon their arrival, but his strong but tenderhearted partner was another matter. He could tell how concerned Tony was for his safety, but never once had he suggested that he just cancel the meeting and start over again somewhere else. Never once had he told him he didn't want him to continue. Never once had he so much as hinted that running for Governor had been a mistake. And never once had he even hinted at wanting to escape the hate-filled mob and return to the relative safety of their RV out back, although Fin had mentioned if he preferred he could wait for him out there. That suggestion had been met with an icy glare as Tony had told him in no uncertain terms that if he thought he was going to hide out back in the RV while his partner gave his first political speech as a candidate for governor, he was in his words 'fucking delusional.' That had promptly settled that suggestion as Tony practically latched himself onto Fin as the two of them made their way to the back of the gym to prepare for Fin's speech.

Tony spied Brian and Justin and heaved a silent sigh of relief; it was comforting to have them nearby and provided him with just a little more reassurance that things would work out all right somehow. He had no doubts that if anyone could sway a hostile crowd that it would be Fin; but even polished, effective speakers such as his partner would have a difficult time with the type of audience he might be facing. He_ was_ relieved, however, when he peeked his head out earlier to look at the crowd now quickly filling the bleachers to note there were no longer any hate-filled, disgusting homemade signs like the ones that had been prevalent earlier. The security detail, then, had at least done part of their job effectively in preventing that sort of nonsense from being carried inside. That didn't mean they could prevent the people who had _carried_ those signs from entering, however, but he fervently hoped that Fin's supporters would now outnumber the idiots who opposed him.

"I'm glad you're here," he told the two men sincerely as Justin impulsively hugged him briefly in support. If anyone knew what Tony was likely feeling at the moment, he knew it would be him.

"Everything okay?" Justin asked him quietly as the two men sat down on a nearby bench as Brian walked over and sat down next to his father; Meyers walked away, presumably to make sure the contingency plans were being carried out satisfactorily so the town meeting could start soon.

Tony nodded as he glanced over at Fin. "Yeah, I guess – at least under the circumstances." He turned to stare into Justin's eyes. "That was fucking scary out there," he told his friend softly. He looked back over at Fin as he added, "I know it rattled Fin, too, but you know him – he would never let on how much it bothered him."

Justin nodded knowingly. "Yeah, like father, like son," he said softly as he glanced over at the two lookalikes conversing closely together. "It would take more than this to frighten Brian, but I'm sure it surprised him. I don't think even _he _thought we would encounter so much open hatred." He sighed. "I still can't believe what sort of emphasis these bigots place on how people live their private lives; what the hell does that have to do with how well Fin can run the state?"

"Not a damn thing," Tony growled as he continued to stare at his lover presently engrossed in his conversation with his son. "Not one damn thing. That's why we can't let them win, Justin." He turned back to look into his friend's face as he told him, "It took Fin a long time to admit who he really was; that was part of the reason why he didn't want anyone to know he had a son."

"I know," Justin said softly, thinking back to the time he had first met Fin and Tony and how Fin had been so reluctant to meet Brian, let alone admit his homosexuality to anyone publicly. "He's come a long way since then, though."

"Yes, he has," Tony agreed. "That's why I know he won't back down from this fight, and I'm sure neither will Brian." He smiled gratefully at his friend as he added, "I'm so glad that both you and Brian are here; this has been one hell of a ride so far."

Justin snorted under his breath. "That's an understatement, and we haven't even survived the first speech yet!"

Tony grinned. "Yeah, I know." His face sobered as he looked over at Fin and Brian again before saying, "But we will, Justin; we _all _will." Justin nodded as together the two sat companionably silent, both gazing over at their lovers and silently wishing this horrendous beginning to a what was turning out to be a tumultuous campaign would go more smoothly the rest of the day.

* * *

From his position at one of the side doors to the gym, Adam Stewart smiled as he read the text that Stockwell had just transmitted to him: _Good work: keep it up. _He had texted Stockwell earlier, knowing there was no way he could hear with the incredibly poor acoustics bouncing off the gym walls, asking him if he wanted him to continue the harassment of O'Connor's attempt at conducting a town meeting. He had done his best to maintain a neutral expression outside near O'Connor's side as the hecklers had proceeded to malign the Senator's character and shout profane taunts at him, but inside he was doing cartwheels of glee; Stockwell's plan to disrupt his first town meeting had gone even better than he had hoped. The only glitch in the whole scheme had been Kellerman's suggestion to take the meeting inside, offering them a little more control over who did or did not enter. The security people had succeeded in preventing the signs from being brought in, but they could do nothing about some of the white supremacist group's members from entering the gym to participate in the meeting along with several members of some of the more radical, right-wing conservative groups that he had contacted anonymously a few weeks ago to warn them of Fin's bus caravan about to canvas the state. He had been proud of the well-composed, succinct note he had typed up and printed out that had been mailed to several groups he knew were vehemently opposed to homosexuality, hoping they would take the bait and show up today after he exposed O'Connor for the pervert he really was; he had even included the photo of O'Connor and Cassinelli at his son's gay wedding, knowing that would undoubtedly set off a firestorm of protest and disgust.

His hopes had succeeded his wildest dreams today; he wanted to shout in jubilation when he noticed the church vans pulling up with some of the same names he had contacted earlier. And when some of them got out with those homemade signs he couldn't been more thrilled. _Wait until you hear what I did, Dad_, he thought to himself. He couldn't wait to let him know, but he had been firmly sworn to secrecy. No one, not even his father, could know what he was doing behind the scenes, he had been told, or there was always a possibility their entire cover would be blown. As much as he desperately wanted to tell his father about his part in helping to bring down O'Connor's campaign before it really even got started, then, he also knew it was too dangerous, so he reluctantly kept quiet for now. There would be time later, though, to divulge it all and reveal his part in it; an action he would relish when the time was right.

Now he watched as the object of his scorn and bitterness strode confidently toward a portable, wooden podium set up near the basketball goal, his queer son and Kellerman tagging along right behind him. He felt the sour taste of bile rise in his throat as he noticed the two men's gay, male lovers standing several feet away from the politician, watching father and son intently. _Disgusting_, he thought, trying hard not to let his hatred show but finding it extremely difficult. He glanced away from their direction until he could compose himself properly and plaster a more neutral expression on his face until he heard the microphone being tapped to test whether it was on or not and he turned his attention to O'Connor and Kellerman, who was standing next to him at the podium.

The crowd actually remained fairly quiet as Kellerman tapped the microphone one more time and, confident that it was at a satisfactory level, began to speak. "Ladies and Gentlemen, as I mentioned earlier most of you probably already know me as your state senator for Berks County. I have been both humbled as well as honored to serve you for the past twenty years, and I hope to continue that privilege for a long time to come." Kellerman paused slightly before he began anew, gauging how vocal this crowd was going to become; he could hear some rumbling coming from the crowd, but it was too low to really make out what was being said.

Taking a deep breath, he added, "We have a chance to elect a man for our next governor who I have had the privilege and pleasure of knowing for the past twenty years during the time I have been in office. I have worked with him on several committees, and have gotten to know him well during that time. Fin O'Connor has proven himself to be a tireless champion of many issues that affect us deeply, including his persistent fight to obtain additional unemployment benefits for misplaced workers, greater construction costs for more coal production which our state has an abundance of, and stronger protection for the disadvantaged, including children and the elderly."

"Does that group include queers, too?" someone shouted from the right side of the bleachers as many people in the crowd erupted into clapping and cheers. Most of the others in attendance, however, shouted at the man who had asked the question to shut up as Kellerman struggled to once more maintain some sense of order; he was going to be damned if he let these sort of bigots win. "That includes _anyone_ who is discriminated against," he called out loudly as he once more heard muttering in the crowd.

Kellerman glanced over at Fin, who shook his head slightly in disgust; his friend's face was a reflection of his own as he turned back to the microphone to say, "Instead of prejudging someone, why don't you hear what he has to say first? Or have some of you forgotten "_Do not judge_, or _you_ too will be _judged?_"

"Don't spout the Bible at us, you hypocrite!" someone else shouted near the other heckler as again, the majority of the people in attendance shouted back at the latest heckler to shut up or get out.

Kellerman had had enough. He motioned for Don Meyers to approach him as he covered his hand over the microphone and told the other man, "Get security in here and throw these assholes out! I'm all for freedom of speech but this is fucking ridiculous! They can shout and heckle all they want outside, but damn it, Fin's going to give this speech whether they like it or not! Get them in here and at the first sign of someone else spouting off, throw the idiots out! You got it?"

Don grinned at him as he glanced over at Fin and Tony; he was in complete agreement. His tolerance point had long ago been surpassed as he said, "Yeah, I got it. Consider it done." Kellerman nodded his gratitude as Fin's friend hurried over to the main entrance to the gym to locate the security detail standing directly outside.

Several seconds later, approximately a dozen off-duty policemen filed into the gym and stood near both sides of the bleachers as Kellerman began anew. "We tried to be open-minded about all the hateful, vitriolic nonsense that has erupted at this meeting, but that's it; any other interruptions will be met with a prompt expulsion from this room! Understood?" he shouted back as once more a couple of hecklers began to shout profanities at him and Fin, interlaced with colorful names for his colleague. He nodded his head over at a couple of policemen, who promptly strode over and stood next to the offenders to announce they had to leave. The two men protested vehemently but to no avail as the policemen promptly placed handcuffs on them and led them out of the room to be charged with disturbing the peace and disorderly conduct. To their credit, most of the audience clapped as the two were led from the large room.

Fin sighed in regret; he had hoped it wouldn't come to this, but he hadn't exactly disagreed with Kellerman's decision to bring the meeting inside and dispatch security; he knew now that this was going to be the only way they could hope to conduct his first meeting in an orderly manner. He noticed the ring of media people surrounding the perimeter of the gym and knew a lot of what transpired today would no doubt show up on the internet, newspapers, and on television later today. But he found himself in an impossible situation; he could either enforce removal of the hecklers and come across as possibly an unbending, close-minded candidate, or he could allow them to remain and never get the opportunity to actually speak to the majority of the constituents gathered here today who really wanted to hear what he had to say about issues that were of importance and relevance to them. It was an awful situation to be in, but he ultimately had to agree with his friend.

He turned his attention back to his colleague as the room again fell silent and the other man said, "Now, as I was saying before those interruptions, I have the pleasure today of introducing my fellow state senator and colleague, Fin O'Connor, who has decided to seek the office of governor. While I will mourn the loss of working closely with a fellow senator who I have come to both admire and respect over the years, I am heartened by the knowledge that once he is victorious – and I have no doubt that will be the outcome – that he will prove to be a tireless advocate for the downtrodden, the helpless, the disadvantaged, and for every citizen here in Pennsylvania who wants a strong, driven leader overseeing this great state that we live in. So without further ado, ladies and gentleman, it is my distinct pleasure to introduce to you the next governor of the great state of Pennsylvania – _Fintan O'Connor_!"

A mixture of applause but also a smattering of boos greeted Fin as he strode purposefully toward the podium; he couldn't help glancing over at Tony, who nodded at him for encouragement, before he walked up to the microphone. He placed a hand on Kellerman's shoulder and squeezed it gratefully as his colleague nodded at him and stepped back a few feet to allow him the spotlight.

To everyone in the audience, and even to his son and Justin, Fin O'Connor seemed cool, calm, and collected, the ultimate connoisseur of collectedness, but his partner knew better; Tony knew that inside Fin was nervous. He had never confided this to anyone else, but for all his outward confidence and self-assuredness he seemed to always possess, Fin was somewhat anxious when it came time to speak in front of an audience, especially one that was unknown to him and not entirely supportive, although that seldom occurred during his popular tenure as state senator. It had taken his partner years of practice to reach the point where everyone marveled at his seeming nerves of steel and his polished approach when he spoke, but Tony could tell by the way Fin's hands held on tightly to the sides of the podium that he was steeling himself for what he needed to do. He _also_ knew, though, that once his partner began to speak everyone would be mesmerized by him just like they _always _were. He stared intently at his lover as Fin took a quiet breath and let it out before beginning.

The microphone squealed briefly as he hurriedly reached down to adjust it before saying to the now somewhat subdued crowd, "I want to thank all of you for coming to this first town meeting of my gubernatorial campaign. And I mean _all_ of you; I want this to be a free and open discussion about my policies and platform."

"Is that why you had someone thrown out?" a person called from the audience; the objector, a young, dark-haired man in his thirties and dressed neatly in a navy-blue suit and a light gray, silk collarless shirt, stood up as he spoke but was promptly shouted back down with cries of "Let the man talk!" and "We want to hear what he has to say!" The man shook his head in disgust, but after a few seconds of being glared at he finally sat back down with a loud huff, sitting stone-faced with his arms crossed as Fin continued his speech. He couldn't let the man's comment go unacknowledged, however.

"What I _don't_ want is for this to evolve into a shouting match where nothing is accomplished," he proceeded to say firmly as he gazed out into the crowd unflinchingly. "The whole point of this meeting is for me to present to you my ideas for running this great state of ours and to provide you the reasons why we need a change in the direction it's going."

Brian pursed his lips together tightly as he stood alone against the back wall approximately 10 feet away from his father studiously watching him; the two of them were trying to maintain a degree of separation from each other, both physically as well as professionally, not wanting to cloud Fin's campaign with a messy controversy over their relationship. It wasn't as if he and Fin were trying to _hide_ their connection, but they _were_ trying to focus the campaign on what was really important, not on how salacious some of the more disreputable media outlets might find the fact that Fintan O'Connor's gay son was heading up his campaign. If it WAS brought up and became an issue, they would simply deal with it head-on. He glanced over at Justin who was standing unobtrusively nearby with Tony as they locked gazes for a moment before he ever so slightly smiled and then returned his attention back to what his father was saying. At least for now, most of the crowd was actually trying to listen to what Fin had to say.

"Your governor's methods of leading this state are both outdated and obsolete," his father was saying. "This is a NEW reality, ladies and gentlemen! One where the working-class people – the ones who are the backbone of this state – are shunned and pushed aside in deference to the lobbyists and self-servers who think nothing of taking your hard-earned dollars and using them to satisfy their own selfish needs! We need to find a way to bring business back to Pennsylvania, not ship all of our manufacturing jobs overseas to places where working conditions close to slave labor are the norm! And we need to resolve to help those who are less fortunate in our state, whether they be the elderly, disadvantaged children, or impoverished families who literally go to bed at night not knowing where their next meal will come from!"

There was a growing rumble of approval from the audience as Fin's eyes lit up in passion while he continued to speak; the man was always captivating to watch when he spoke from the heart, and this was no exception. His internal struggle earlier to be calm coalesced into a steadier, more confident drumbeat as he continued to speak about those issues that were closest to his heart and his anxiety melted away. "This is one of the greatest states in this country! We have always prided ourselves on our work ethic, our compassion, and our strength! Let's rely on those values now to change the direction this great state is heading and place it back on the right track!"

A cheer erupted from the audience, drowning out the others who wanted to scorn and ridicule his speech as several constituents jumped to their feet and applauded. Fin waited until the accolades had died down and most of the people had sat back down before he continued. "I know what we face isn't easy or straightforward. I know there will be difficult times ahead for us and that as much as we might hope for a fast, quick fix, there will not be one forthcoming. But my friends, I _can_ tell you this; we cannot afford to elect a man who will merely be a puppet of our current governor and continue the same, tired, unproductive methods that are currently being used and that are not working! We need to wake this state up! We need to wake each _other _up! The time for change is NOW. Help me ignite the change by electing me as your next governor!"

As Fin passionately concluded his speech, most of the crowd again rose to their feet and clapped enthusiastically as a collective cheer broke out. Fin smiled back at them with an appreciative nod, silently accepting their support as the clapping continued for several seconds.

As the crowd continued to respond mainly positively, Brian and Kirk walked over to him. Fin covered the mike with his hand as he leaned over toward them so he could hear what they had to say.

"I think you should take some questions now," Brian confirmed to his father as Kirk's mouth opened in astonishment.

"Are you shitting me, Kinney? He'll get eaten alive!"

"You don't have much faith in your candidate, do you, Littleton?" Brian growled. "I happen to think Fin can _more_ than take care of himself."

Fin found himself burning inside with pride over his son's statement of confidence as Littleton retorted, "Didn't you see the reaction he got outside, Kinney? All those people didn't _stay_ out there; a lot of them are in _here_, and I have a feeling of lot of them are going to be the ones shouting out the questions and raking him over the coals. You want your father to look like a fool?"

"Do _you_?" Brian responded curtly, knowing their time was running out before the crowd simmered back down and waited for Fin's next move. "Would you rather he tuck his tail between his legs and scurry back into the woodwork like a fucking coward?"

"Gentlemen, please," Fin replied sternly as he turned to face them, not wanting the audience to see the contentious rebellion boiling up in his own camp. "I'm right here; and it's MY decision whether to take questions from the audience." The two men stared at him silently as Fin looked over at his long-time speechwriter and responded, "And I happen to agree with my son, Kirk; I didn't come out here and risk my political neck for something I don't believe in. And I'm not going to let some uneducated, homophobic assholes dictate my policy – or my life. If you don't agree with that – if you don't have my back like you always have – then perhaps we need to part company. Is that understood?"

Kirk's face flushed with embarrassment as he backtracked and mumbled, "Yeah, of course, Fin; it's not that I don't believe if everything you've worked for OR your campaign! I'm just concerned that this could really escalate into something unpleasant if we're not all careful."

"Escalate," Fin muttered. "I _hate_ that fucking word." He let out a heavy breath as he noticed the volume of the crowd decreasing. He glanced once more over at Tony and Justin, needing the reassurance of his partner's gaze before he stood up a little straighter and turned to face the audience, who had now sat down and were looking at him expectantly. It was time to hear what the crowd had to say.

* * *

_A/N: I will have another chapter of this up shortly; it turned into over 17,000 words so I had to split it up!:) Sorry, I apparently don't know the meaning of the word 'brevity'! - LOL! _


	18. A Partner's Love

_A/N: Fin wraps up his first day of town hall meetings; the men try out more features of their new 'toy' (wink, wink...)._

* * *

From their place nearby, Justin leaned in to ask Tony, "What do you think _that_ was all about? Brian and that other guy didn't look too happy." Justin knew the man was part of Fin's contingent, but he wasn't quite sure what his role in the campaign was.

"That's Kirk Littleton," Tony told him. "He's Fin's speechwriter."

"Well, apparently whatever _speech_ he just gave Brian didn't go over very well," Justin observed, noticing the way Brian was standing stiffly and the tense set of his jaw; it was obvious Brian was perturbed about something.

"Apparently not," Tony replied, his eyes examining his partner's stance as well. "Fin's not happy, either." The fact that his partner had turned his back on the audience briefly was a clear signal to him that Fin was irritated; everyone knew in the political arena that you NEVER did that while you were making an appearance, not if you didn't want your listeners to think you were snubbing them. For Fin to do that, then, even for a moment meant that he was highly aggravated over something. "Not happy at all," he added as he watched his lover force himself to change his demeanor from one of disgust to a neutral game face before he turned around to speak. He made a silent note to ask what all that was about before Fin resumed his talk.

"I will now take any questions you may have – _one at a time_," he politely requested. The room, however, immediately erupted into numerous people trying to speak at once throughout the cavernous gym, including media personnel as well as constituents. Fin held up his hand in a placating sort of gesture as voices bounced off the walls and he repeated, "_Please_ – one at a time," he said loudly as he pointed over to the bleachers on his right at a tall, gangly blond-haired man wearing a beige polo shirt and a pair of dark-blue denim jeans. He waited until his friend/jack-of-all-trades assistant, Mark Leon, walked over to the man with a wireless microphone so the man's question could be clearly heard, his face set in what he hoped was an interested, calm expression; inside, however, his pulse had quickened as he waited somewhat anxiously for just what sort of questions would be asked of him. No matter _what_ they were, however, he was ready to answer them, because it was either be upfront about everything or not participate at all.

"Yes?" he asked as a microphone was held up in front of the man; the crowd's volume quickly quieted down as the man began to speak, everyone undoubtedly wondering what he had to say.

"Senator, as you mentioned thousands of our jobs in manufacturing have been shipped overseas in the last few years and our unemployment rate is at an all-time high. How do you propose to get these back? What is your plan for accomplishing this?"

Fin nodded; silently grateful that at least the first question was relevant to what he wanted to focus on. He responded by nodding his head and replying, "I know our state has been hit hard by the loss of so many manufacturing jobs during the past few years; in fact, we are in the top tier of that unfortunate group along with Ohio, Indiana and Michigan. I know people have been forced out of work – good, industrious, loyal people who worked for years for the same company, only to be ceremoniously thrown to the wolves when their jobs were shipped out of the country. And I know this has hit families hard and caused them to seek out help when they never thought they would ever need to." He paused for a moment as he noticed everyone listening intently to him, their attention focused solely on him now and not on the others that were trying to be divisive. He took a deep breath before adding, "I'm not going to lie to you, though, ladies and gentlemen. Those manufacturing jobs will probably never return." A grumble of dissatisfaction rumbled throughout the room as he raised his voice. "Let me finish," he implored. "What I was going to add, however, was that the way to decrease our unemployment and add jobs to our state is by promoting the small businessman who is the backbone of our economy by making it more attractive to add jobs and by seeking incentives to bring new, emerging technology to our state. Only by being proactive and becoming a leader in new energy alternatives, for example, will we be able to turn our economic situation around. That being said, though, we _also_ need to find ways to make what goods we _do_ still manufacture here more attractive to other countries. We can do that by reaching mutually-beneficial agreements that will even the playing field and be fair to both parties."

Another man standing nearby wearing a pair of bib overalls and a long-sleeved shirt with the sleeves pushed up to his elbows raised his hand as Mark walked over to place the mike near him.

"Yes?" Fin asked calmly, now starting to come into his own; he flourished in this type of environment of give and take. He _wanted_ to be challenged and _wanted_ to show he was ready to take on any sort of challenge this crowd may throw at him. He may have never participated in this particular sort of forum before, but he had certainly been involved in his share of give and take with others who possessed opposing viewpoints. _Bring it on_, he silently urged the audience as he eyed them confidently now. _I'm just getting warmed up_.

From his place nearby, Tony couldn't help grinning a little. "Look out," he whispered to Justin. "I think the tiger's just now gotten unleashed." Justin looked at him puzzled as he explained, "I know that look. He's starting to get into it now; he's reaching what I call his _Fin Mojo_. He _loves_ this kind of challenge," he said, his heart leaping at his lover in action. "Just watch."

Justin grinned back at him, thinking that reminded him of someone_ else_ he knew as he turned to look over at Brian, who nodded slightly at him; no doubt, he was thinking the same thing.

"What about our jobs in coal, Senator? If you promote alternatives like nuclear and solar energy, for instance, isn't that going to cause all these more traditional jobs to go away, too?"

Once more the crowd began to murmur in agreement as Fin raised his hand in an attempt to ward off a full-blown mutiny before it started. "Not at all," he reassured the man. "I'm not saying that. Our energy consumption, not to mention that of quickly-emerging nations such as China and India, continues to escalate. We will need _all_ of these resources if we are to continue to meet the world's ever-increasing thirst for energy. What I AM saying, though, is that it's time to look ahead, not back, which means utilizing every resource available, including not only coal and natural gas but _also_ newer alternatives such as nuclear, wind and solar energy. What we _will_ have to do is change along with the times, which means making our traditional sources of energy cleaner. That may initially involve higher costs," he admitted as the crowd groaned, "but in the long run it will make us more in line with our overseas competitors and will leapfrog us to the top of the list ahead of other states who will be lagging behind as they try to catch up." He eyed the room unflinchingly as he said, "There's no turning back, ladies and gentlemen. We will not be able to go back to the way it was when the United States was the sole provider of so many goods and services. The world has changed. But that doesn't mean that we can't change along with it and continue to be the greatest country on this planet and the greatest state in the nation. That is going to be one of my main goals if I am elected Governor."

* * *

_Not if I have anything to do about it_, Adam Stewart thought as he seethed inside. The man was acting like he was the greatest gift to mankind. He was extremely disappointed that his initial task of totally disrupting the man's first town meeting was being met with less than impressive results; it seemed since the crowd outside had been forced to relinquish all their protest signs and come inside, they had turned from righteous warriors into fucking pussy cats. Other than the two men who had been roundly ejected earlier from the gym, no one was really challenging O'Connor yet the way he had been hoping they would; instead, they were almost of one accord _accepting_ what the bastard was saying to them!

Turning slightly away from Fin's point of view as the senator continued to adeptly field questions of policy from the audience, he quickly began to text a message to one of his contacts: _Town hall meeting is a fucking bust. Next move?_ He hit send and waited impatiently for a reply, glancing furtively around him to make sure that his moves weren't being construed as suspicious somehow by either O'Connor himself or his fag son, so-called husband, or by Cassinelli. Satisfied that they seemed more interested in concentrating on the back-and-forth discussion taking place instead, he soon felt the vibration signifying a reply as he glanced down to read: _I'm disappointed N U. I'll contact U l8tr. _

Sighing in disgust, Stewart slipped his phone back into his jacket pocket as he turned back toward Fin, trying hard to keep a polite look on his face and finding a little solace in the knowledge that their battle has just begun.

* * *

Fin was in full-operations mode now, adroitly handling multiple questions being thrown at him on all sorts of policy matters. His answers were thoughtful, intelligent, and firm, quickly proving that he was well-versed in a multitude of challenges facing the industrial state. The crowd, which had started out as hostile and combative outside, was now practically eating out of his hand as he began to wind down the question-and-answer period with nary a proverbial scratch on him. "I have time for one more question," he told the audience as Mark Leon, who was now located on the opposite side of the room, walked up the steps between a row of bleachers to stop at the end where an older woman, who appeared to be perhaps in her mid-40's, was standing. She was a neatly-groomed brunette, wearing a lightweight, tailored maroon jacket over a cream-colored, lacy-collared shirt and a pair of dark-brown linen pants. As the microphone was held in front of her, she eyed the politician intently for a few seconds before she stated succinctly, "Senator, you recently made the decision to reveal that you are a homosexual," she began, wrinkling her nose up in distaste. "In fact, I recognize your partner standing nearby at this very moment."

Tony's face reddened as he realized that hundreds of people were staring over at him, no doubt recognizing him from earlier accounts of Fin's disclosure at the press conference, or perhaps from Justin and Brian's wedding reception. He felt his face burning but he met the eyes peering at him with an unblinking pair of his own. He and Fin had nothing to be ashamed of, and he was damned if they were going to make him feel that way. He felt Justin silently grab his elbow in a show of support as he tensed up, waiting for the woman to get to her actual question.

Fin's face hardened slightly; Brian recognized the change immediately, but he wasn't sure the subtle difference was noticed by the rest of the crowd, who had turned eerily quiet. His father replied calmly, "That's correct – on both counts. I have made no secret of that. But what is your question?"

The woman huffed out a short breath of irritation as she continued, "My question is, Senator, what gives you the right to think you can govern a state that has always prided itself on Christian values and beliefs? What makes you think that you can effectively guide a state that is in direct contrast to the way you live your life? I for one do NOT want someone controlling my destiny who throws such a perverted lifestyle in my face!"

A round of applause broke out in small patches around the gym, but the majority of people either booed or loudly protested her comments as Fin waited a few seconds for the ruckus to die down a little. He had been hoping they would be able to conduct a more civilized conversation inside without these sort of ignorant questions surfacing, and as time went on it had been promising, but he should have known he would not have gotten off quite that easily. _So be it,_ he thought determinedly as he noticed Mark Leon looking over at him apologetically. He wasn't blaming Mark, though; he had no way of knowing who – or what – would come up during this open arena, and even if he could have, he wouldn't have stopped the woman from asking the question. It had to be addressed.

"Please, let me answer the question," Fin beseeched firmly as he swept his gaze around the room and held up his hand for silence. He didn't dare look over at Tony, because one look of fiery indignation from his own personal bulldog and he would be lost. He knew Tony had to be livid at the comments.

"First of all, according to the Williams Institute, Pennsylvania has the seventh-highest percentage of gay populations in the country, with Philadelphia being ranked the 11th-highest city. So your contention that very little of Pennsylvania's population is homosexual is erroneous." The woman opened her mouth to protest as Fin held his hand up again and sternly stated, "Please… I gave you ample time to finish what you had to say, so I expect the same respect from you." Shouts of agreement and applause were scattered around the room as he added, "Secondly, my personal lifestyle choice in NO way dictates my policy decisions. _Everyone_ – no matter whether gay or straight – has the same concerns today. How much of my monthly expenses is my next paycheck going to cover? How am I going to pay for high healthcare premiums? How will I get through the next winter with astronomical heating costs? Even something as simple but life-altering as where will my next meal come from is shared by everyone, regardless of sexual orientation. It doesn't matter _what_ you do in the privacy of your homes or who you love – we ALL share the same fears and worries, as well as the same dreams. I can assure you – and everyone else – that no matter whether you are gay or straight, I will fight for ALL of you when it comes to what's best for this state."

He gazed out over the now subdued crowd as he finished, "You may not agree with my lifestyle choice; that is certainly your prerogative. But I CAN assure you that I love this state dearly; I have lived here all my life and I have fought for years to make sure that it continues to be the greatest state in the country. I have had the privilege of seeing some wonderful changes made over the years in my position as state senator and have had the chance to make some effective policy changes through my tenure on several important state committees. But I have the opportunity now to make an even bigger difference by being your governor, and if you elect me, I promise to use my years of experience to continue to fight for what's best for this state. I will never forget how far we have come, but I _also_ won't forget how much farther we have to go. And I _also_ promise that I won't feed you any bullshit – excuse my French – about how easy things are going to be, because it's true – we've got a lot of challenges ahead of us just like everyone else. But if you DO vote for me, you will always get the unvarnished truth from me as well as a persistent, tenacious fighter for your rights. I'm asking you today to give me that chance. Thank you."

With that, Fin turned slightly away from the podium to finally glance over at Tony, who promptly flashed him a smile and gave him a thumb's up gesture. He was a little surprised to feel the slight sting of tears in his eyes as his heart did a flip flop in response and his lips twisted into a loving smile for his staunchest supporter. At that moment, he couldn't have been more grateful that his partner was here by his side as he heard loud applause break out in the room and he turned back to the crowd to nod in acknowledgement.

The town hall meeting effectively over now, the loudspeaker began to play the chorus part of Bruce Springsteen's song, "No Surrender" as he noticed Brian coming up to stand next to him; the crowd, which was being held at bay away from them by the security people, including the media, began to slowly filter out of the room as Brian looked at him with what he hoped was admiration in his eyes. He couldn't help asking, "How do you think it went?"

Brian stared at him thoughtfully as the room slowly emptied out. His standard reply of "It was all right" that he would have normally said died on his lips before he could utter it. Instead, to even his _own_ surprise, he said instead, "It was about what I had expected." Fin's face fell a little at the lack of approval before Brian added, "But you more than stood your ground; in fact, you were pretty damn impressive."

Fin couldn't help the look of pleasure that broke out on his face at his son's compliment. "Thanks," he said softly as Justin and Tony walked up to them. "That means a lot to me."

Justin eyed the two men curiously, not having heard the entire discussion as he glanced over at Tony, who shrugged slightly. Both men silently promised themselves to find out exactly what they had said later in private as Tony looked around the room, seeing most of the people gone now. Not really caring who observed them anyway, he grabbed Fin by the neck to pull him closer and planted a brief kiss on his cheek before letting him go. "You were great," Tony told him warmly as Fin smiled down at him.

"I was, wasn't I?" he joked as Tony rolled his eyes and grinned. He blew out a sigh of relief between his lips, though, as he admitted, "That was a little intense." He wrapped his arm around Tony's waist as he pulled him against his side. "I'm so glad you were here," he whispered in his partner's ear; Tony's face flushed in pleasure as it turned a slightly darker shade of pink.

"Yeah," Justin added, nodding with a smile of approval. "You handled yourself very well."

Brian cleared his throat as the trio turned to look at him. "I hate to break up this mutual fag admiration society, but we need to get going. We're scheduled to speak in Boyertown in an hour and a half, and we're already thirty minutes behind schedule."

"Yes, boss," Fin told his son with a smirk as Brian took hold of Justin's hand and began to pull him toward the exit. "We're right behind you." With his arm still around Tony's waist, he began to walk alongside his partner as he approached Mark, Kirk, and Adam. He smiled gratefully at the three men. "Thanks, guys; you really helped save my ass today." He was being totally sincere; while Kirk hadn't quite agreed on his approach to confront the hecklers today after his speech, each man had provided him with assistance in their own way and had been completely honest with him regarding their viewpoints. If he was to win this campaign, he knew he would have to count on these types of straightforward supporters to continue to provide their honest feedback regarding how his campaign was going. He was grateful they could be counted upon to do just that, along with his son who was quickly proving to be masterful as his campaign manager. He smiled to himself, knowing that a certain blond would be sure to point that out to him later with undoubtedly a smug look on his face.

He held his hand out as Don Meyers, his old friend in charge of security, strode up to join them. "Great job on handling my 'fans' outside, Don," he told his friend as the two shook hands.

As they broke apart, Don brushed his hand through his hair and breathed out a heavy breath. "That was fucking scary," he admitted. "I thought we'd get some idiots but I wasn't quite expecting this."

Fin nodded as the group began to walk toward the exit together now. "I know," he admitted. "Neither was I. But I thought you did great, Buddy. I just hope I didn't scare you off now," he added, only half kidding.

Meyers laughed softly. "Not a chance! You think THIS would scare me off? You know me better than that!" The two of them had confronted plenty of bullies at bars they used to frequent in college; a few drinks and they had felt invincible. Of course, that hadn't always been the case – they hadn't gotten beaten up plenty of times – but they still charged ahead anyhow and managed to prevail.

Fin smiled at his friend warmly. "Yeah, I guess you're right; thank God. For a minute I thought I was going to have to find someone else."

As the group exited the now-empty gym, Adam straggled along behind them, scowling at the outward display of triumph on all the men's faces. It made him sick to his stomach as he stood back unnoticed. _Enjoy your smugness now, O'Connor,_ he thought with derision. _It won't last long._

* * *

_Later that Evening – Emmaus, Pennsylvania near Allentown _

"Well, I've finally arrived," Brian deadpanned as he gazed out onto the vast sea of asphalt. "The Wal Mart parking lot." The scattering of overhead security lights around the surface provided an adequate view of the nearby restaurants that were lit up for the early-evening dinner patrons. Fin's round of town meetings had finished for the day, leaving them on the outskirts of Allentown in, of all places, the local Wal Mart parking lot, one of the few places where their outrageously monstrous RV could be accommodated. The campaign bus was presently parked about a mile down the road at an inexpensive local motel with plans for both groups to meet back up at the parking lot first thing tomorrow morning to resume the next leg of Fin's rolling campaign.

Brian had decided to take down the campaign banners for the night, feeling the need for some privacy after a fairly grueling schedule; the day had taken its toll on all four men considering the tight schedule he had insisted on maintaining and the occasional confrontations they had encountered. After the first stop in Reading, they had conducted two more town meetings here in Emmaus and one in Boyertown previously, being greeted by the same mixture of supportive voters as well as bigoted, close-minded constituents in both cases. In each instance, however, Fin had managed to win most of them over by the time they had left, so Brian counted the day as a successful one. He had known from the outset that they would never be able to change the opinions of everyone, so winning over a majority had to be considered a victory.

As he gazed out through the RV's front window at the scattering of cars parked near the store's entrance, he felt Justin's hand on his back and he turned to smile at him. "Did you bring the grocery list, honey?" he asked in falsetto as Justin laughed softly.

"Oops! My bad; I forgot," he responded with a grin as he turned to look out the window, also. "Not quite up there with a view of Mt. Rushmore, is it?" he asked softly. He could hear Fin and Tony talking quietly behind them in the living room area; the two men were presently sitting on one of the couches, holding hands as they discussed the day's events.

"No," Brian agreed. As Justin turned away from the window, Brian caught a glimpse of his husband's gold wedding ring reflecting off the soft overhead light and impulsively pulled him into his arms to hug him tightly. Justin closed his eyes, relishing the feel of Brian's arms around him and his familiar, warm body pressed against his, before Brian pulled back slightly to look him in the eyes.

Justin smiled. "What was _that _for?" he asked softly.

Brian shook his head slightly as his eyes bored into his. "Do I need a reason?" he replied, keeping his arms around Justin's waist as he slowly caressed the warm flesh he found there. He leaned down to kiss the soft lips briefly before he pulled back. thinking what a damn lucky man he was.

"No," Justin answered truthfully a little confused, not needing a reason any time to be held by his husband; after all, it was one of his greatest pleasures, that is, after making love with the man. Despite what a lot of people thought about Brian over the ages, he was very demonstrative at times, liking to hold hands and nuzzle his neck from behind when they were standing close together. Even when they were in the early stages of just getting to know each other, he had been that way, but he was even more so now. "Just curious."

Brian peered into the loving blue eyes as he simply said, "I just needed it, that's all."

"Oh." Justin said with a wider smile. "That's always a good enough reason."

Brian pressed his tongue into his cheek as he gently grasped Justin's waist and replied, "In fact… Since you've been such a good little boy today, how about I take YOU out to dinner at one of those fine establishments over there?" He nodded his head toward the window where the adjacent restaurants were located.

Justin smiled one of his trademark smiles now in delight as he replied excitedly, "Really?" He was going to enjoy using the kitchen onboard their RV, but that didn't mean he wouldn't pass on going out to eat, either. "That'd be great."

Brian smiled at his husband's enthusiasm; some things never changed. "What do you feel like eating? Besides me, I mean." He watched as Justin blushed slightly; yep, some things never changed, all right.

"Italian?" Justin had spotted an Olive Garden across the street when they had pulled into the parking lot a little while ago.

Brian groaned; Italian was full of pasta, and pasta was full of carbs and it was well past seven. "Justin…"

"Please," Justin pleaded as he peered up at Brian flashing those baby blues that always got him what he wanted. "They DO have Caesar salads there."

_Little fucker…_ Brian sighed. "All right," he agreed as Justin's eyes lit up in triumph. Was there ever any question, though? Brian pulled his husband against his chest as he leaned down to whisper, "But as soon as you're done eating your Italian, I'm bringing you back here and _eating your ass_." He couldn't wait to try out both their bedroom and the shower, thinking both had better live up to his expectations; anything that cost a fucking fortune like _this_ RV better have the best amenities. He bit down playfully on Justin's earlobe, hearing a soft gasp in response as he saw Fin and Tony walking over out of the corner of his eye. He took one moment to turn his head and briefly kiss the willing lips of his husband before he broke apart from Justin to turn and look at his father and Tony. "We're going to walk over to the Olive Garden to catch a bite to eat; want to join us?"

Fin wasn't going to voice it aloud, but the truth was after the day's stressful events he was exhausted. He _also _knew, though, how much Tony loved Italian food – after all, he _was _a Cassinelli, so if his partner wanted to go out to eat, he would buck up and go, too; it was the least he could do after how supportive Tony was being regarding his run for governor.

To his relief, however, Tony seemed to know what he needed as he shook his head and said with a smile, "No… Thanks, but I think if it's okay with Fin I'd like to just stay here and chill for a little while. I brought a few frozen dinners with us I can stick in the microwave."

"You sure?" Justin asked.

Tony looked over at Fin, who nodded. "Yeah, we're sure; thanks for asking, though; we'll take a rain check if that's okay."

Brian and Justin nodded as Brian took his hand. "We'll be back in about an hour, then," he advised them as they walked over to the door and disappeared a few seconds later.

Silence – blissful, complete silence – permeated the RV as Fin stared over at his partner curiously. "You feeling all right? You NEVER turn down Italian – even if it IS something as cookie-cutter as the Olive Garden." Having come from a long line of Italian cooks – his grandparents had been born in Milan – Tony was always complaining about the lack of real, authentic-tasting Italian restaurants around the state, but nevertheless this was his partner they were talking about – he had an appetite the size of a fucking elephant.

Tony reached over and gently brushed some hair away from Fin's forehead as he looked into his partner's eyes; even in middle-age, Fin's hair was still mainly auburn brown with just the hint of gray to make him seem even more gorgeous and his face was wrinkle-free except for some very fine lines around his steel gray eyes; he was aging beautifully, but that didn't surprise him. Fin was one of those men who had been blessed with the sort of genes that would keep him gorgeous forever. Perhaps it was good, then, that he was several years younger than his partner, because he had the idea that Fin would be admired by other men - and women - for a long time to come. He felt lucky, then, that this man had chosen _him_, and he certainly felt the same way.

"What?" Fin's brows furrowed in concern; Tony was acting a little strange. "What is it?" he asked softly as he took his hand and brushed the back of it across Tony's soft left cheek.

Tony shook his head to tell him he was fine; they knew each gesture by now that they knew what it meant instantly without verbalizing it. "Nothing," he voiced aloud as he looked into Fin's eyes; his partner noticed them glistening, however, and frowned before Tony explained, "I'm just so fucking proud of you, Fin; you've come so far."

Fin curved his mouth into a smile. "You mean since you threatened to leave me?" he teased.

Tony grinned. "Something like that." His face sobered as he added, "Not just that, though; although I AM proud of the fact that you don't hide who you really are anymore. I feel lucky."

Fin slid his arms around Tony's back as he repeated, "Lucky? How?"

Tony appeared a little embarrassed as he explained, "Lucky that I just happened to be at the courthouse the same time you showed up that day. Lucky that it was me that attracted you. Lucky that you don't take no too easily for answer." He grinned up at Fin. "Lucky that you're one persistent little bastard."

Fin chuckled softly. "That I am," he admitted as his eyes bored into his partner's, "especially when I'm going after something – or someone – I want." He pulled Tony against him more tightly as he whispered, "_I'm_ the lucky one, Counselor. Damn lucky. And I think about that fact every fucking day."

"Fin…"

"I mean it, Tony," Fin said sternly as he gazed into Tony's blue eyes. "You're the best thing that ever happened to me, and you always _will_ be. Yeah, it'd be nice to be governor – it would be great, actually," he admitted a little sheepishly. "But it would mean _nothing_ without you by my side. You're my inspiration, Mr. Cassinelli." Tony held his breath as Fin added softly, "You're my soul and my touchstone." He smirked as Tony's eyes filled with tears; for someone who could be a virtual legal pit bull in the courtroom when he was arguing a case that he was vehemently passionate about, the man could be a puddle of sentimental goo at times when they were alone. "Now why don't we go initiate our home away from home and try out our bed?" he asked huskily. "I think I have a _different_ kind of 'appetite' that needs satisfying at the moment."

Tony nodded, a lump in his throat over his partner's words as Fin broke off their embrace to bring Tony's hand to his lips to kiss the pale fingers one by one. Grasping his hand tenderly but firmly afterward, he slowly began to pull his lover toward their bedroom. As they walked into the room and Fin began to take off his shirt, now tinged with sweat from their day's events, he asked, "How about we start with a shower and then you can give me one of those famous Cassinelli massages? Then I'll give YOU one of my famous O'Connor fucks."

Tony laughed. "Deal," he told his partner as he helped Fin unbutton his shirt to remove it. Both fully unclothed seconds later, the two headed toward the shower for what would no doubt be the first of many test drives for father, son, and their partners.

* * *

"Justin?" Brian eyed his husband from across the table, noticing him picking at his food; that was definitely unlike how his husband normally ate. "Something wrong with the chicken parmesan?" He reached for a breadstick hiding under a navy-blue cloth napkin in the bread basket and gently used it to tap the top of Justin's hand. "Or could it be that after what? – six breadsticks? – you've finally reached a limit?" He curled his lips under as he eyed Justin teasingly.

Justin grimaced in response. "I _am_ a little full," he admitted as Brian's eyebrows rose. "I know, it's hard to believe, but even _I_ get full after a while." Brian made a motion as if he were zipping his lips as Justin explained, "I'm just a little tired I guess; not sure why, though; it's not like _I'M _ running for governor. I'm not even running the campaign, like you are, or handling security. But I'm still tired."

"Physically tired or mentally tired?"

"Huh?"

In the glow of the candlelight on the table, Brian reached over to clasp Justin's hand as a pair of blue eyes stared into his. _God, he loved this man so._ "I think this has dredged up some bad memories for you, Sunshine," he said softly.

"No…" Justin began in denial.

"_Yes_," Brian persisted as he slowly rubbed his thumb across the soft skin. In the candle glow, Justin's eyes shone even brighter as he stared into them. "I think it's reminded you of how things were at school and with your father. Stockwell. How things were at the prom. The bombing." He shuddered at the thought of those last two events. Even after all this time, just the mere mention of the prom and bombing made his heart lurch at what might have been; Justin could have easily been killed both times. He would have never wished what had happened at Babylon to occur in a million years - so many needless deaths and injuries - but in a weird, macabre way, the bombing had served some good, because it had opened up his eyes to what was right in front of him and had forced him to at last openly declare his true, deep feelings for Justin.

"I'm fine," Justin insisted and he really was; yes, those events had shaped his life and made him who he was today, and yes, they had definitely changed him permanently. But they had also made him a stronger, more independent person. They had helped him doggedly pursue Brian's father until he could reunite father and son together, and had even pushed him to pursue Brian until the man had no choice but to give in to him and recognize what he really felt for him. "Really," he added firmly as he looked over at the man he loved and smiled. "It's just been a hell of a day – for _all _of us." He squeezed Brian's hand. "But it's been a _good_ day, too, Brian."

Brian nodded. "Yeah… It has." He somewhat reluctantly dropped Justin's hand as he reached to take a sip of his beer. "You know, Fin was pretty persuasive today. He turned what could have been a disaster into a plus. I think most of the people who heard him today walked away with a good impression of him; even some of those assholes who were picketing against him. He was clear and concise in his speeches and answered every question without flinching." The pride in Brian's voice was clear as he smiled. "He might just make one hell of a governor after all."

Justin smiled. "Thanks in no small part to you."

Brian shrugged. "I may be the conductor on this ride," he said, "but Fin's got to be the engineer. And so far he's stayed on track just like I advised him to." Justin nodded as Brian took one last gulp of his beer and stood up. "Well, if you _are_ finished, I think it's time for the next part of our meal. You gotten me _hungry _now."

"For tiramisu?" Justin asked innocently.

Brian stood up and walked over to Justin's side of the table to bodily pull him up impatiently by his wrist. "Twat," he muttered. "You know EXACTLY what I'm talking about; you can get your fucking tiramisu to go."

Justin grinned as Brian signaled for the waitress to bring his dessert; eating it could wait until later. At the moment, he was in the mood for some _other_ type of delicacy, too.

* * *

Ten minutes later, they arrived back at the RV; as they opened the door, both men noticed Tony and Fin were gone, but they didn't have to call out to them to figure out where they were. All they had to do was hear the vocal moans and grunts coming from the rear of the RV.

Brian smirked as Justin blushed at the telltale sounds of Fin and Tony's lovemaking. "Looks like someone beat us to it," Brian said as he took Justin's wrist. "Well, that means the shower should be free then," he told his husband reasonably. "And I'm feeling dirty; _really, really dirty_." The sounds of his father and Tony fucking were putting his libido into overdrive as he pulled Justin to him and kissed him deeply for several seconds before he let go of the blond's mouth with a resounding popping noise; staring into the darkened blue eyes and at Justin's _kissed-to-within-an-inch-of-his-life_ ravaged lips, he took hold of his husband's wrist and eagerly pulled him down the short hallway toward the shower, noticing the vocalizations become louder and more urgent as they passed Tony and Fin's closed bedroom door. He smirked as he recognized his father's voice calling out Tony's name as if it were a prayer, recognizing the obvious sounds that they were about to climax – that and the fact that Tony kept screaming out, "I'm close! I'm close!" – and he felt his own cock hardening painfully in response. He had to fuck Justin – NOW. Practically dragging the willing blond into the bathroom, he used his foot to slam the door shut before he pushed his husband roughly against the door and attacked his lips again. He heard Justin moan under his mouth as his tongue crept out to savor the sweetness inside, his long fingers splayed against the back of Justin's neck as he slammed their mouths together hard.

As they kissed, his hands moved to begin tearing at Justin's shirt in a frantic attempt to unbutton it; a few moments later, he thought _to hell with it_ and promptly took both sides of it and literally tore it apart, the buttons making a soft skidding sound against the brown-and-gold-flecked marble floor as he then reached down and pulled at the fly of his husband's jeans. Justin's hands pulled the hem of Brian's shirt out of his pants and began to shakily, urgently tug at the expensive, navy-blue silk tie to dislodge it. He succeeded in getting it just loose enough to pull it over Brian's head as the two broke apart from their kiss long enough to dispatch with the rest of their clothing.

Suit, shirts, pants, shoes, briefs and socks now all piled in a discarded heap on the floor, the two men began to kiss anew as they walked sideways over to the shower, Brian reaching out somewhat blindly to locate the shower stall door and open it, his mouth never leaving Justin's as he located the round knob of the shower and turned it to hear the water start. His hands roamed all over Justin's body as the two waited impatiently by the open shower door for the water to heat up sufficiently; fortunately, Tony and Fin had used it fairly recently, so it didn't take long for the water to heat back up again. Continuing to kiss, Justin's wandering hands and his whimpers of pleasure and soft moans were making Brian even more turned on as he reached out to make sure the water was hot enough and then urgently pulled both of them inside under the steady, pulsating stream.

The water poured down over them as Brian held Justin in his arms and reached to bite down a little too hard on Justin's earlobe, making the blond jerk. He quickly laved the wound with his tongue as he growled in his ear, "Fuck, Justin, I have to have you now!" He kissed Justin deeply one more time as he quickly turned the slender, slick body around and searched for something to help lubricate his entrance. Spotting a bar of recently-used designer soap and inhaling the scent briefly, noting with satisfaction that his father had good taste, he quickly rubbed it between his hands to work up an abundant lather before he reached down and began to slide his hands first over the incredibly-curved ass cheeks, hearing Justin moan loudly in response. His cock stiffened even more as he heard Justin crying out his name urgently.

"Brian," he moaned over and over again as he wantonly pushed back against his husband's body, feeling the hard cock brushing up against him. "Come on! Give it to me!" he demanded as he slapped his palms against the thick glass of the stall and spread his legs to try and gain some footing. "Brian, please," he begged, his voice softer now but still dripping with need, a urgent craving for this man to be inside him. He felt the sting of Brian's nip at his shoulder blade in silent reassurance that he was about to do just that before his husband's long fingers began probing inside him, making his pucker slick and ready. One finger, then two joined together briefly before they both knew that was all the preparation they could handle and he felt the fingers gone just before Brian's cock pressed inside.

He hissed at the sensation, never growing tired of the feeling of bare skin on bare skin, as Brian grasped his waist and began to rock against him, pushing in hard and then pulling back out slightly but never leaving his body fully. After a few thrusts, Brian's tempo increased as he moaned and grunted at the sensations of their bodies slapping together in perfect synchrony. Their bodies, so different in height, were perfectly curved together whilst in the throes of their lovemaking, their masculine angles molding together precisely chest to back as they moved fluidly as one.

"Fuck," Justin moaned out as he turned his head from side to side in pleasure; his husband could make him feel things that no other man ever could – or ever would; with Brian there was no comparison to any other lover. Brian knew exactly how to touch him and how to speak to him, how to kiss him body, suck and bite him, how to take him to heights indescribable. "God, I love you!" he cried out loudly, his cries echoing off the slippery walls as Brian grasped his waist tightly and began to pound into him relentlessly now.

Justin jerked slightly in delicious torment at the not-so-unexpected touch of Brian reaching down to curl his hand around his cock and begin to slide his hand up and down the soapy shaft, his hand warm and possessive. "You're so fucking hot," he growled as his body slapped against Justin's. "Mine," he added roughly, his voice harsh and ragged as he continued to ram into his lover. "Say it," he demanded as he increased the tempo of his hand on Justin's cock, his thumb pressing into the slit as Justin's chest heaved in and out from the emotions coursing through him. He could feel his body tensing up, knowing he was about to explode from the pleasure Brian was giving him, but he managed to moan out one word, "Yours," before he promptly came with a violent shudder and felt Brian do the same against his back as the two of them fell forward together against the shower wall, Brian's hands sliding around Justin's waist to support him as they came back down to earth.

Neither man spoke for several seconds before Brian slowly turned Justin around in his arms; his husband's hair was plastered to his head and water was raining down into his eyes as he shook his head from side to side and blinked, an almost goofy look on his face as the cloudy, sated, blue eyes peered up at him. Brian pushed some wet hair away from Justin's eyes as he smiled at the thoroughly-debauched look on Justin's face and kissed the tip of his nose. "You wear me out, Sunshine," he murmured appreciatively as his breath washed over his husband's face. He let out a long ragged breath as he tried to regain a normal breathing pattern, his heart still beating wildly from their lovemaking as he pulled back to look into Justin's eyes. There was a mixture of both love and pride there as Brian smirked. "Don't let it go to your head, though," he said, looking down at Justin's cock and knowing that it wouldn't take long for that particular part of his husband's anatomy to come back to attention. Justin still had the advantage of youth on his side, and could even now come almost just from 'rutting against a tree,' as Brian used to say. Brian could still more than keep up with him, but he had to admit silently that Justin might have gained a slight edge in that department. That didn't mean that he was about to let just one short session in the shower assuage his appetite for this sexy, beautiful man staring back at him, though; not by a long shot.

"Let's get washed up and go try out our bed," Brian suggested huskily as he picked up the soap that had long been thrown onto the floor and began to gently slide it over Justin's silky shoulders. Justin closed his eyes and sighed in pleasure as he relished in how Brian could be so forceful one minute in the midst of their lovemaking and then so tender and gentle in the next. The different sides to his husband's personality intrigued as well as delighted him, even after all these years, as he smiled dreamily over Brian's touch. He opened his eyes as he heard Brian chuckle softly. "What?"

Brian licked his lips as he playfully ran the soap over the tip of Justin's nose. "You're so easy, Sunshine," he kidded him.

Justin should have been offended, but he wasn't; instead, he softly replied truthfully, "Only for you; always."

Brian smiled at him tenderly as he placed the bar in Justin's hand and turned around. "Wash my back," he requested. "Just don't let your cock accidently get inside my ass, though."

Justin giggled as he leaned in behind Brian's back and slid his hands around to rest them at Brian's belly. "You should _be_ so lucky," he murmured confidently as Brian laughed outright now. Justin took a moment to soap Brian's stomach before he slid the bar of soap around to his back and pulled back enough to begin sliding the soap all over the broad shoulders and down Brian's spine; he always loved doing this, because it gave him a chance to admire the musculature there. Brian had such a beautifully-sculptured body; time had been good to him. It was still as lean and perfect as it had always been. "I remember that night we said goodbye before I left for New York," he found himself saying as he slowly washed Brian's body, the water softly rushing down from overhead. "I remember when you lay on top of me. I remember putting my hands behind your back and sliding them all over your skin, just like I'm doing now with the soap. And I remember how perfect you felt. You still feel that way to me," he admitted as Brian turned in his arms to silently gaze into his eyes.

Brian continued to look at him for a few more seconds before he admitted softly, "I remember how lost I felt when you left that morning... And how fucking much I was going to miss you." He took a painful breath at the recollection of it before adding, "And… And how much I loved you. How much I _still_ love you."

Justin's eyes filled with tears at his husband's heartfelt admission. Brian still wasn't very vocal when it came to such things – he had gotten better at it, but it was still extremely hard for him; moments such as these, then, were always treasured. Justin placed the bar of soap back on the built-in ledge and picked up a small trial-sized bottle of shampoo placed next to it, put there presumably by Tony and Fin earlier. He squirted a small dollop into his palm and as Brian stared into his eyes he began to slowly, gently knead the liquid into the wet hair. "You never told me that," Justin murmured as he continued to shampoo Brian's hair; he loved doing that for him. "About how you felt that morning."

Brian's mouth curved up as he said, "I knew you wouldn't go if I made a big deal out of it. I knew you would feel guilty about it, and I knew you needed to spread your wings and be on your own for a while." He paused for a moment before he added, "And you already knew how I felt about you anyway… Even _before _I admitted it."

Justin smiled as he finished lathering Brian's hair; Brian leaned into the shower's water and closed his eyes as he rinsed the shampoo off. "I might have had a clue," he teased as Brian smirked and reached for the shampoo bottle to perform the same ritual for Justin. A few minutes later, both men were clean as Brian reached to turn off the water. Justin shook his head again from side to side to dislodge some of the water from his longer hair as the two men stepped out of the shower. Brian reached for a large, oversized thick bath towel from a nearby rack and handed it to Justin before retrieving another one next to it for himself. A few minutes later, both men were relatively dry as Brian threw his damp towel down on the floor and reached to pull Justin into his arms. He curled his lips under as he said, "Well, that was invigorating… And the shower wasn't half bad, either."

"Brian," Justin said softly in that almost embarrassed tone that always made the other man smile. Justin shook his head as he wrapped the towel around his slim hips, the large material almost swallowing him whole.

Brian frowned. "What are you _doing?_" he asked as Justin finished tucking the corners in.

"What do you mean, _what am I doing_?"

"Since when did you get so modest?" Brian asked him in amusement. Justin never paraded around their master bedroom wearing a towel around his hips after a shower when they were at home.

Justin gave him a 'duh' look as he said, "Since we started sharing close quarters with your father and Tony?"

"Well, I'll make sure your ass somehow doesn't wind up in the wrong bed, Sunshine."

"Ha, ha, very funny. I just don't feel like parading around nude in front of your father and his partner, that's all; is that so hard to understand?"

Brian shrugged. "I don't think they'll be coming out of their bedroom any time soon; something tells me they're 'indisposed.' So why don't we do the same?" Justin offered up only a token protest as Brian tugged at the plush fabric and quickly pulled it away from Justin's body, admiring the pale body and the makings of another hard-on underneath. He smirked as he leaned in to kiss Justin deeply and reached down to curl his hand around the thick, oozing cock, hearing a soft whimper in response through the soft pink lips. "Come on," he whispered as he pulled back and slid his arm around Justin's waist to lead him out of the bathroom. "I've got one of Fin's constituents that I need to impress _personally_."


	19. Old Grudges, New Concerns

_Justin and Tony continue to be concerned about the their partners' safety; old enemies harboring grudges are recruited from the other camp. _

* * *

Tony lay on his stomach, his torso draped over Fin's body as he idly played with the fine hairs on his partner's chest; he smiled lazily as he watched Fin jerk slightly when he lightly trailed his fingers down his sternum, knowing that his lover was ticklish there.

He suddenly found his hand trapped between two larger, long-fingered ones and a voice growling, "Stop that, you fucker; you know that drives me crazy."

Tony grinned impishly up into his partner's face as Fin peered down at him. "Did I tell you how much I like this bed? For an RV, it's very comfortable."

"I think I figured that out already," Fin told him as he slowly caressed Tony's palm. They had managed to become quite at ease with their temporary home-away-from-home for the past hour, and they had discovered that their bed had wound up being very suitable for their 'needs.' "I'm glad you approve."

Tony smiled as his eyes slowly admired the lean, flat belly as he began a slow, leisurely gaze downward toward Fin's cock. "Oh, I approve, all right."

Fin twisted his mouth into a knowing grin. "That's what I love about you, Counselor," he told his partner. "You know what you want and you go after it."

Tony slowly inched up onto Fin's body until they were face to face before he huskily whispered, "You'd better believe it, Senator." He leaned down to kiss the dusky-colored lips he knew so well for several seconds before he broke off their kiss and sighed, placing his head on Fin's chest as his partner tenderly stroked the top of his blond head. He wrapped his hand around Fin's torso as he murmured against the warm skin, "Fin?"

"Yeah, Baby?"

"That town meeting today made me nervous; nervous for _you_. I think Justin felt the same way about Brian, too; about _both_ of you."

Fin slid his hand around Tony's back as his partner lay on top of him. "Yeah, it was a little intense, I guess."

Tony lifted his head to stare into his partner's eyes. _"Intense_? Fin, those people were raving lunatics! They made some of the murderers I've prosecuted look like upstanding citizens."

Fin brushed some rebellious hair away from Tony's eyes as he replied, "Tony, we can't stick our heads in the sand and pretend people like that don't exist. I won't live that way, and I know you won't, either."

Tony propped his upper body up by his elbows as he replied, "I know. But it has to be weighed against your safety."

Fin gazed into the concerned blue eyes. "This is all kind of ironic, isn't it?" he observed dryly. "All this time you've been pushing me to be honest with myself and with everyone else, to not be apologetic for who or what I am. Well, I've finally done that – and in a big way, I might add – and now you want me to pull back into obscurity and stop?"

"No," Tony protested as he huffed out a soft breath of frustration. "I _admire_ you for standing up to all those assholes. In fact, I was never more fucking proud of you than I was today when you confronted them and gave them as good as you got." He smiled as he added huskily, "You know how sexy I think you are when you get all passionate about your ideals." He slowly stroked Fin's chest as he added more somberly, "I guess I was just naïve in a way, Fin; I had no idea how hateful they could be, and now it worries me. Despite some advances, this is still a scary world we live in."

Fin cupped Tony's cheek as he smiled and said, "I know it is, Tony. And Brian and I will be extra careful, I promise. But we can't back down now; we're just getting my name out into the spotlight." He stroked his partner's face with his fingers as he added, "You know what this means to me."

Tony smiled lazily. "What… having a gorgeous man at your beck and call to fuck whenever you please? That's completely understandable."

Fin rolled his eyes and laughed softly. "You sure don't have a problem with humility, do you?" Tony grinned at him as he clarified, "You know what I'm talking about. I really think I can make a difference as governor; much more than as a district senator. This has been my dream for a long time, Tony."

Tony gazed up into his partner's eyes tenderly, hearing the passion in his voice anew. "I know, Fin. I just hope it doesn't turn into a nightmare instead."

* * *

_Same Time_

"So… How do you like my campaign pitch, Mr. Taylor?"

Justin smiled from his place at Brian's side; they were lying on their side facing each other in the middle of their bed after a vigorous round of fucking, sucking, licking and kissing, their favorite pastime. "You were very persuasive," Justin confirmed, playing idly with Brian's fingers intertwined with his. "You have _my_ vote, but you may need to practice your technique several times during the course of this road trip; I wouldn't want you to lose your touch with your adoring public."

Brian appeared indignant as he growled, "Lose my touch? I'll show you _touch_!" He reached over to pull Justin's head toward him as he promptly smashed his lips against his to kiss him deeply for several seconds before their mouths broke apart with a resounding popping sound. "Is that _touched_ enough for you, little boy?"

Justin grinned. "It's a good start," he admitted impishly as Brian smiled over at him in amusement. "But you'd better keep reminding me as we go along just in case." His face sobered just then, an expression not lost on his husband.

"What? Are you upset that I didn't tack on the "Kinney" part to your name again, Sunshine?" he asked, tongue in cheek. Actually, he was surprised Justin hadn't picked up on that; he was constantly correcting him every time he forgot. Secretly it pleased him inordinately to think that Justin was proud enough of his married name to insist that he use it whenever possible. He _liked_ it a lot, in fact.

Justin shook his head. "No… It's not that." He smiled over at Brian tenderly to add, "Although you _did_ forget again; you're not trying to get an annulment already, are you?" He reached over and idly stroked Brian's upper arm, marveling at the warmth and lean muscle there as he bit his lip in thought.

Brian gazed into his eyes as he answered sincerely, "Not on your life, Sunshine." He noticed Justin blush at the intensity in his statement, but he could also tell his husband was struggling between wanting to say something else and hesitating. "What?" he asked softly. "I know that look." Apparently, the day's events were still weighing greatly on his husband's mind.

Justin sighed, realizing it was always fruitless to try and withhold anything from Brian. "You know I'm not one to back down from a fight…" He began tentatively.

Brian snorted as he caught the roaming hand of his husband and intertwined their fingers together on his chest. "That's an understatement."

Justin smiled at him crookedly before he grew somber again. "Well… About today…" He noticed Brian peering at him curiously, waiting for him to continue as he took a deep, tense-filled breath and let it out. "Those people outside, and in the gym…"

"Justin…" He had a feeling what his spouse was about to say; normally glibness was not one of his problems and if he was struggling to say something, he _also_ knew it no doubt meant he wasn't going to like what he had to say. His husband's ability to cut to the chase, though, was one of the things he loved about him.

"No, let me finish," Justin insisted, sensing a protest about to occur. "Brian, those people were horrible today; so hateful, so bigoted." He looked down at their clasped hands as he swallowed hard at the recollection. "It's not that I didn't know they existed – God knows I'm certainly aware of it. But I guess I was beginning to hope that maybe things were starting to change now, that people were becoming more tolerant of us." He huffed out a soft, angry breath and shook his head as Brian remained silent, knowing he had to get his concerns addressed. Justin raised his eyes to meet his husband's as he growled, "I can't believe this is even an issue in a political campaign! What does your father's sexuality have to do with his ability to run a state government?"

"Absolutely nothing," Brian agreed quietly as his eyes bored into the blue ones. "Not a fucking thing. But some people insist on making it an issue anyway." He reached over with his free hand to place it on Justin's cheek, locking his gaze in place as he stated, "What are you trying to say, Sunshine? That we should just cower to these assholes?"

"No!" Justin exclaimed forcefully. "Of course not! But…" He bit his lip and lowered his gaze, almost in embarrassment.

"But _what_?" Brian prodded gently as he grasped Justin's chin and forced him to look at him again.

Justin sighed. "But that doesn't mean I'm still not worried." His eyes glistened at the thought as he added more softly, "There was so much venom there. It was almost like you could reach out and feel it. If anything ever happened to Fin…Or worse, to _you_…." He shuddered visibly as he swallowed hard; when he had first talked to Brian about taking the job of campaign manager, he had never thought about this being an issue. He was so convinced that Brian would be the perfect man to lead his father's campaign, and he had secretly thought that it would also be a way for them to bond more and become closer. He had never really thought about what _else_ might occur as a result. After what had transpired earlier today, however, he realized that he had probably been deluding himself into thinking that the amount of bigotry they would encounter would be minimal.

Brian's face softened at the distress in Justin's eyes. He despised _anything_ that made him upset; even after all that his husband had been through, and after Justin had stood up time and time against the horrible injustices he had encountered in his relatively young life, Justin still became alarmed when it came to anything he conceived as possibly being capable of hurting the man he loved. He felt humbled by that, even now. He smiled softly down into the worried face to say, "I promise; nothing is going to happen to either of us. They're just words, that's all. And Fin more than stood up to them today; that should _score_ him points, not detract from him. Trust me; these homophobic pricks are going to shoot themselves in the foot. It's going to backfire on them. They'll eventually get tired of hearing themselves talk and slink away with their tails between their legs. They're only going to hurt themselves by showing everyone else what total idiots they are."

"But it just takes one person…"

"Shh," Brian said as he gently pushed Justin down onto his back and gazed down into his eyes. "Enough of that now. We have security precautions in place. They're just spouting out the same old 'go home, fag' message you always hear when they're worked up. It's nothing to worry about, okay?"

Justin tamped down his concern for Brian's sake and concentrated, instead, on the touch of Brian's hand clasped in his and the gentle, reassuring tone of his voice. Inhaling deeply and letting it out, he finally nodded. "Okay," he whispered, still not quite convinced but willing to trust that Brian knew what he was doing.

Brian smiled tenderly as he said, "Now why don't we concentrate on more pleasant matters?" He slowly leaned in to kiss the soft, full lips, sucking gently on the lower one as Justin sighed in response. Their previous eager impatience earlier to fuck dissolved into something much gentler as Brian slowly kissed him, trying through his kisses and his slow, light touches to reassure his husband that he was right. As Brian made love to him anew, though, Justin's worries remained hidden deep in his mind – and in his heart.

* * *

_Four A.M._

Justin heard the soft footfalls before his visitor quietly spoke up. "Fancy meeting YOU here; enjoying a really late snack or a very early breakfast?"

Justin turned around in one of the RV's kitchen chairs to smile at his friend. "Little bit of both, maybe." He nodded toward the coffee maker. "There's some extra coffee, but it's leaded. Might keep you from going back to sleep."

Tony smiled as he walked over and helped himself to a mugful. "Don't worry; I don't think I'll be going back to sleep anytime soon." He took his mug and walked over to scoot a chair out to join Justin at the table, observing a couple of drawings lying face up on the wooden surface along with a few charcoal pencils. He studied the sketches, immediately recognizing them as depictions of what had happened earlier at the town hall meetings. He would remember that one snooty, holier-than-thou woman in particular for a long time. "Incredible likeness," he observed as he took a sip from his mug and looked over into his friend's eyes. "Is that why you're out here instead of asleep?"

Justin sighed as he nodded. "Yeah, I guess you could say that. What about you?"

"Fin and I had a long discussion about it earlier; he doesn't seem all that concerned about it."

Justin snorted softly. "Sounds very familiar; Brian and I talked about it, too, and he pretty much said the same thing. He said they were just a bunch of idiot blowhards who would get tired of it all and eventually just go away. He said it would wind up backfiring on them when the press reports how well Fin stood up for himself today." He studied the two drawings he had made; one showing the well-dressed, haughty woman standing in the bleachers, her eyes flashing with indignity as she questioned Fin, and the other one portraying some of the outside crowd at the first town hall meeting holding up their signs spouting all sorts of vitriolic nonsense; the look of hatred on their faces was a memory he would not easily forget and even now it made a chill run down his spine. "I wish I could believe that, Tony."

Tony bit his lip in concern as he picked up the sketch depicting the crowd and studied the amazing likeness of what they had experienced earlier; he shook his head as he reread some of the horrid messages that had been written. "Yeah, me too," he admitted. He sighed. "Justin, I know how much this means to Fin; he's dreamed of this for so long. But at what price?" He had been willing to break all ties with Fin earlier when his partner tried to hedge on disclosing his sexuality to the public or even acknowledging his gay son; but now that he had, Tony was almost wishing he had never done it. "This is so fucked up," he grumbled. "_I_ was the one who pushed him to come out, and now I almost wish I had just kept my big mouth shut. If I HAD, no one would have been the wiser and none of this would be happening."

"You know you don't mean that, Tony," Justin chided him as he reached over and briefly grabbed his friend's wrist to get his attention. "Even if Fin _hadn't_ disclosed it, it would have leaked out somehow eventually, especially once he was thrust into the public eye. It was better to confront it head on, just like he did. And I know you wouldn't have stayed in the relationship if Fin had insisted on keeping it quiet."

Tony put his mug down and rubbed the back of his head in frustration. "I know that – logically. But I'm worried about his safety. Damn it; why do people have to be so narrow-minded?"

Justin's mouth turned up into a crooked smile. "I guess because they can," he said simply. "Listen, we both know that neither Fin nor Brian will change their mind; they're too competitive and headstrong to back out now, so like it or not I think we're in this for the long haul. I think the best we can do is keep a close eye on them and hope to God nothing happens to either of them in the process."

Tony sighed as he nodded. "Yeah, I guess you're right. I don't know about you, but I will be relieved when this RV tour of the state is over with and Fin and I are back home in Harrisburg. It's going to be a LONG two weeks."

Justin nodded. "Yeah." He took a deep breath to relieve his stress before he scooted back from the table and walked over to the compact refrigerator. "Well, I suggest a stress-reliever in the meantime." He opened the door and reached in to retrieve an aluminum pie plate and held it up for Tony's inspection. "Left-over tiramisu from dinner."

Tony chuckled. "Now you're talking; best stress reliever after sex – bring it on."

Justin grinned as he walked over and placed the dessert down on the table along with two forks he had pulled out of the utensil drawer. For the next few minutes, they enjoyed a companionable silence as they savored Justin's dessert from the Italian restaurant, but both men knew their worries were far from over.

* * *

_6:30 A.M._

Brian opened one eye as he reached over for Justin and came up with air instead. When had he gotten out of bed? Normally HE was the first one to awaken so he in turn could rouse his sleepy husband with the proper 'wake-up call' – taking care of his morning woody. It appeared that today, however, they were going to have to forget their normal ritual.

Rising from bed, he walked over to the closet to pull out his clothes for the day; as he opened the bedroom door, he heard soft voices coming from the front of the RV, recognizing them as his husband and Cassinelli. Unconcerned that he was still unclothed – after all, it was his normal attire while at home – he walked the few steps over to the bathroom and , noticing Justin and Tony staring at him from the kitchen, he took a moment to wink at them. "Morning, boys," he drawled before he opened the door and disappeared behind it. A few seconds later, the sound of running water could be heard as Brian proceeded to take his shower.

Justin couldn't help grinning as Tony's face turned red and his mouth hung open over Brian's unabashed show of nudity. It was just a brief glimpse – and the second one, actually, that Tony had seen, since he had received a small eyeful once before when he and Fin had gone to visit Brian at his loft – but it still caught him off-guard. Fin liked to parade around in the nude, too, but only at home and only in front of him; unlike his son, Fin would not be so nonchalant about it in front of others.

"Is he always that casual in front of strangers?" he couldn't help asking curiously as he turned his gaze back to his friend.

Justin smiled. "Well, first of all, you and Fin are not exactly _strangers_. You're more like family. But even if you WERE strangers, the answer, believe it or not, would be yes. Although it's a little harder for him to be such an exhibitionist when he's at Britin; it's harder to 'perform' when there's no audience to appreciate it properly."

Tony laughed. "Come on, he can't be that bad!"

Justin grinned. "He's mellowed a little bit over the years; sometimes he'll actually put on his silk robe before he answers the door, especially if it's time for the Girl Scout cookie drive," he joked. "Funny, though – I told someone a long time ago that he would _never_ mellow like a burgundy. Turns out I might have been wrong about that, but I wouldn't want him to fizzle out completely, or he wouldn't be the Brian I love and know all too well."

Tony shook his head in amazement. "You're awfully unconcerned about it."

Justin shrugged. "It's just the way he is. He's always been open about his sexuality. But I don't worry about it, because while he still enjoys being in the showroom I'm the only that takes him for a test drive now." He smiled almost proudly; if only Brian knew he was comparing him to a sports car.

As if he were reading his mind, Tony laughed as he said, "Better not let HIM hear you say that, even though I'm sure you've got him firmly hooked."

Justin smiled. "He'd better be; I took those marriage vows very seriously." Silently, he had no doubts about Brian's love for him and the man was still as gorgeous as always. He didn't mind his sexy husband showing off a little as long as he remained firmly by his side.

Tony's face turned wistful as he replied softly, "I don't think you have anything to worry about, Justin; that man loves you like crazy. You're very lucky."

"I know," he replied with a smile. Justin's heart warmed at Tony's comment; he already knew how Brian felt – he showed it to him every day – but it never hurt to have it validated by someone else. He frowned, however, as he noticed a shift of emotions cross Tony's face. He hesitated a moment, recalling an earlier conversation they had had on the morning of his wedding, before saying quietly, "Tony?

"Yeah?"

"This is what you want, too, isn't it?"

Tony smirked. "You mean to have Fin parade around like a strutting peacock? Been there, done that, my friend. When we're alone at home – and the shades are drawn, mind you – the man hates wearing clothes. It's a shame we don't live in a nudist colony, because we could save a lot of money on designer duds."

"No… Not that," Justin persisted, knowing the man was trying to be obtuse on purpose. "I mean marriage; that is what you're ultimately hoping for with you and Fin." He eyed his friend intently; he had seen a flicker of emotion pass over Tony's face at the mention of his marriage vows and he knew how much the man loved Brian's father. He noticed the tender looks that passed between them, the same sorts of looks he and Brian exchanged when they were alone; the same sort of looks that made his heart do flip-flops even now. The main difference, though, was that Brian had made an official commitment to their love while Fin had not.

Tony sighed. "We've discussed this before, Justin," he replied a little curtly. "Why rehash old news? You know that's what I would like, but it's not that easy now, is it?"

Justin curved one brow upward, a little surprised by the sharpness in Tony's voice. "No, it's not," he answered honestly. "It took Brian a long time to decide he wanted to get married; if you had asked him that when we first met, he would have looked at you like you had grown a second head. As even he admitted at one time, he would have been the _last_ candidate to consider marriage."

Tony pondered that statement thoughtfully; that almost fit Fin to a T. "So what changed?" He asked; he glanced back as Brian emerged from the shower, hair damp and now fully clothed as he walked back into the bedroom to finish with his grooming.

Justin smiled as Brian exchanged glances at him and smirked with his lips curled under before returning to their bedroom, noticing at least he was dressed now. He turned back to Tony to say, "That's a good question. I think at first he proposed to me because he thought that was what _I _wanted; that, plus I think the bombing scared the shit out of him and he realized that everything and everyone he knew could literally be gone in a heartbeat." Justin paused for a moment in recollection before adding, "His best friend was almost killed that night."

"My God…"

Justin nodded. "Yeah… Fin's not the only one who's been subjected to hatred and bigotry. Someone had it in spades that night." For a few seconds, Justin allowed himself to think back to that awful time. It had been horrendous, waiting around for news about Michael and realizing that his own mother could have possibly been injured as well as some of his other friends. So many others he didn't know had been killed, and for what reason? Only because someone didn't agree with the way they lived and had no tolerance for it.

"They never caught who did it?"

Justin was pulled out of his reverie by Tony's question as he shook his head. "No. Whoever did it was really good about covering his tracks." He sighed, forcing himself to change the subject as he added, "What I'm trying to say here, Tony, is that I never thought Brian would really want to be married, but he surprised me. It wasn't a sudden change and I can't really tell you when it happened exactly or maybe even why."

Tony shook his head, a little resentful that Justin had what he longed to have. "So what's your point, Justin? You and Brian get to live happily ever after. Good for you."

Justin refused to take the bait, realizing that Tony wasn't upset with him but just venting his frustration. He smiled sympathetically at the older man and reached over to squeeze Tony's wrist as he said softly, not necessarily wanting either Brian or Fin to overhear, "What I'm _trying_ to say, Tony, is that I see a lot of similarities between Fin now and Brian back _then_. Don't give up on what you want. Believe me, if Brian can change his mind, so could he. I'm not the only one who has a man that loves him deeply; I can tell Fin feels the same way about _you_."

Tony sighed. "I know that. But that doesn't necessarily mean that he'll ever be marriage material. After all, he didn't even come out until recently, and that was only because I pressured him into doing it."

"That might have been what instigated it," Justin replied. "But if he hadn't loved you as much as he did, he wouldn't have let that push him into doing it. And I think now that's it out in the open, he's got to be relieved that it _is_. He handled all the hatemongers he encountered very well today, I think."

"Yes, he did," Brian said as he walked up to them, having overheard the last comment. He placed his hands on Justin's shoulders and gave him a kiss on the cheek from behind. "I missed you when I woke up this morning," he whispered. "I wasn't done trying out our bed."

Justin blushed a little at the husky tone of his husband's voice as he turned his head to accept another kiss on the lips. "I'll make it up to you later," he whispered back as they broke apart.

Brian smiled. "I'll hold you to that." He stood up and looked over at Tony. "Where's Fin?"

Tony shrugged. "I assume he's still in bed; I've been out here with Justin for a few hours now."

Brian looked down at the remnants of what appeared to be Justin's dessert from last night and smirked. "Well, I can see what the two of you were collaborating over together," he told them with a smile; his smile dimmed a little as he observed what Justin had drawn, but it didn't surprise him. That had always been his husband's cathartic method of dealing with issues that worried him. He walked over to the coffee maker and poured himself a mug. "If Fin doesn't get up soon, I'll need to wake him up. We have another strategy meeting in an hour with his staff before we head out for the next round of town hall meetings."

"He's awake," the three men heard as Fin came walking up to them; unlike Brian, however, he was dressed far less provocatively, wearing loose-fitting pajama bottoms that rode low on his narrow hips. He walked over to stand next to his partner and leaned down to give him a kiss. As he pulled back, he whispered, "I missed you this morning. Where did you go?"

Justin and Tony looked at each other and tittered.

"What's so funny?" Fin asked, perplexed, as he walked over to pour the remainder of the coffee into a mug and joined the three men at the kitchen table.

"Just ignore them," Brian stated. "The two giggly schoolgirls are no doubt just finding some of our father-son similarities amusing."

Justin grinned at Tony before he explained to Fin, "That was pretty much the same thing Brian just said to me."

"See…Told you," Brian said as Fin nodded and sat down next to Tony with a smile. His eyes, though, couldn't help wandering toward the two drawings that Justin had done that were lying on the table. Despite the unpleasant subject matter, he continued to be impressed by his son-in-law's artistic talent. Justin truly had a gift for making his scenes come to life and they never failed to amaze him.

"I wonder how much of my fan club will show up today?" he said sardonically as he took a sip of his coffee. "Maybe I should have packed a red suit in so the tomatoes they throw at me will blend in."

"Don't even kid about that, Fin," Tony warned him, still unsettled about what they might be facing again today. "It's not funny."

Fin reached over with his left hand and squeezed Tony's shoulder reassuringly. "It'll be fine, Tony. We are NOT backing down from those homophobes." He dropped his hand to look across the table at his son. "Have you checked the wire services this morning?"

"I was just about to do that," Brian told him as he stood up, coffee mug in hand. "Come and sit down on the couch and I'll go get my laptop."

As Fin nodded and walked over to sit down on one of the couches, Tony told Justin, "I'm going to go check my emails from work." Justin nodded as he was left alone among the four men. Staring down at the sketches he had made, he reached down to pick up the sketchbook he had propped against one leg of the table and placed it on top. Flipping it open, he soon was lost in his memories of what they had encountered so far. This time, though, he chose to concentrate on the positive side of their adventure and sketch his father-in-law during the midst of his impassioned speech in Reading. In no time, he was drawn into his own world as father and son mapped out campaign strategy nearby.

* * *

_Emmaus Motor Lodge – Same Time_

Adam Stewart impatiently drummed his fingers against the glass surface of his nondescript wooden hotel desk as he waited for his laptop to boot up; he was scheduled to meet with O'Connor, Kinney and the rest of the staff within the hour, so he was pressed for time as it was. Thankfully he had arisen early enough that he was already showered and dressed as he sat at the hotel suite's desk, gazing at his reflection in the mirror mounted on the wall directly in front of him.

After a few moments, he turned his attention to the computer screen as he heard the familiar, soft chime signaling he was connected, noticing Turner already waiting to talk to him. He recognized the setting as Turner's office in Wilkes-Barre; he and Turner had met there right after he had secured his job with O'Connor, but after that he was told they would strictly be communicating on a remote basis to avoid any possibility of their duplicity being discovered.

"About time!" Turner growled; Adam noticed Stockwell sitting next to Turner in his office, along with two men he didn't recognize, one younger man was a dark blond and slender, while the other one was older with salt-and-pepper hair. The three visitors were sitting next to Turner's desk on his dark leather couch in such a way that they could see his face on the computer screen, which merely added to his nervousness.

"It's only five after," Stewart pointed out. "I have to be make sure no one else is around, you know."

Turner huffed out a breath in aggravation. "I'm paying you enough fucking money! The least you can do is be there when I ask you to."

"Okay, okay," Adam grumbled. "I'm here now and we're wasting time. I have to meet with O'Connor and Kinney in an hour for the next staff meeting. What did you want to meet for?"

Turner exchanged glances with the three men sitting on his couch. "Have you accessed any of the newspaper websites this morning?"

Adam frowned. "Not yet…Why?"

"Why? Shit, Stewart! After yesterday you weren't curious what they had to say about O'Connor's first day on the campaign trail? Well, I'll TELL you what they had to say! They think the man's a fucking genius!" He glanced over at a printout he had made of what the _Reading Reporter's_ website had written. "You want me to quote Kleemeyer's editorial in the Reading paper this morning?" He began to read verbatim part of the comments written a few hours earlier by one of the state's most highly-renowned commentators regarding O'Connor's campaign activities; Robert Kleemeyer was well-known throughout the state as a thorough, no-holds-barred commentator, having written thousands of campaign editorials over the years that were syndicated to several newspapers in Pennsylvania. His opinion was highly respected by most of the constituency.

"_Despite encountering a vehement, angry mob of protestors at his first town meeting, O'Connor proved to be well-spoken on the issues of most importance to the crowd in attendance, displaying an impressive, thorough knowledge of key points on the State's economy, unemployment, and energy initiatives. By the time he had glibly and intelligently responded to the questions presented to him, he had the previously-raucous crowd practically eating out of the palm of his hand. It would appear that his newly-appointed campaign manager, Brian Kinney, is using his expertise as an advertising CEO to great advantage. Turner better take notice; this man means business." _

Stewart swallowed hard at the harshness in Turner's voice. "It's just one editorial…" he began.

"Just one editorial?" Turner peered over at Stockwell, whose face was tightly drawn into a scowl. _"Just one editorial_? That's like saying the Mona Lisa is just one _painting_!" This is _Kleemeyer, _Stewart, not some wannabe copy boy! Surely even YOU have heard of him!"

"Yes, of course I've heard of him," Adam snapped. "But it's still just one opinion and it's only after the first day. So he scored a few brownie points and got lucky. We've still got a lot of time left."

Turner shook his head in disgust; why did he entrust this pipsqueak upstart with such an important job? "Well, I can't take that chance, Stewart. We've going to have to up the ante."

Adam narrowed his brow in puzzlement. "What do you mean?"

"It means that you are to keep doing what you're doing – although I'm beginning to question the wisdom of you coordinating it – and I'll do what _I_ need to do on my end to help ensure this fag doesn't get elected to office," Turner stated, his voice dripping with contempt. Adam wasn't sure if his derision was directed to him, to O'Connor, or to both of them, though, as he glared back at the other man in resentment. He actually didn't care one iota for Turner, but his desire to prevent O'Connor from being elected was stronger than his contempt for the other man, so for now he would have to follow Turner's directives.

"Okay," he said curtly. "I'll make sure the protestors continue to show up. There're several church groups and family marriage organizations that have promised to attend each meeting. But what exactly are you going to do on _your_ end?"

Turner scowled. "You let ME worry about that, Stewart! Just keep up your end of the agreement or your little incentive checks will disappear. Got it?"

Adam started into the computer screen at the other man, his blood boiling at the man's haughty tone of voice. "Yeah…I got it," he said in a clipped tone. He sighed as Turner promptly disconnected his end of the conversation without so much as a goodbye. "Damn asshole," he muttered to the now blank screen. "You're no better than that queer is." Still, he realized if he didn't want to disappoint his father he knew which side of the fence he had to stand on, so for no other reason than that he would continue to create whatever dissension he could in O'Connor's campaign. Logging off his laptop, he quickly began to gather up his suitcase and other belongings as he prepared to leave the hotel room and check out.

* * *

"He's an incompetent, fucking _idiot_!" Turner roared as he closed the top of his laptop forcefully and peered over at his visitors. "There has to be someone better than Stewart to infiltrate the other side and help us take O'Connor out once and for all!"

"Let Stewart continue his little game and let him continue to feel important," Stockwell counseled him. "The protestors will still have somewhat of an effect, although maybe not as much as we had hoped. That's why we're going to have a backup plan."

Turner let out an angry breath, still greatly perturbed over what he perceived to be Stewart's insufficiency. "I still think he's an incompetent asshole," he told the other men as he rubbed his face in frustration. "If he slips up and manages to help get that queer elected somehow…"

"He won't be," Stockwell told him confidently. "We're just getting started. Maybe O'Connor might be able to deceive enough voters to actually get them to vote for him despite his immorality. But he made a big mistake when he chose his fag son for his campaign manager. That's going to wind up being his ultimate undoing."

Turner frowned; Stockwell had called last night and told him they needed to meet right away. He had actually told the man to come after his Skype call with Stewart would be over, but the three had shown up just as he was about to start, so he had somewhat reluctantly allowed them to stay while he and Stewart had spoken. He didn't quite trust Stockwell, but at least he knew there was no love lost between the former police chief and Kinney. But these other two men were totally unfamiliar to him, and he hadn't had a chance yet to find out what they were doing here. "What the fuck are you talking about, Stockwell?" he asked. "And who ARE these people?"

Stockwell smiled. "These…Are the people who are going to help bring O'Connor to his knees." He turned to the younger man to advise Turner, "This is Kip Thomas; he's a former employee of Kinney's who had a sexual harassment lawsuit filed against him."

Turner's brows rose at that statement; _interesting – very interesting_. "He did?"

Thomas smiled at him. He was going to enjoy playing this little farce with Kinney. He had waited a long time for this chance. "Yeah…Fucker told me if I wanted to keep my job I would have to submit to whatever he told me to do to get ahead. He kept pushing for more and more, though, until I got sick and tired of it and finally left. I tried to sue the bastard, but he had some high-priced attorney that would have cost me an arm and a leg to fight against him, so I finally had to quit. But now's my chance to make the asshole pay for what he did. He can't be allowed to force people into doing something as blackmail in hopes of getting a promotion."

Thomas had been infuriated by Brian's refusal to go to bat for him to get a promotion with Ryder's agency. The anger, too, that he still felt over being blackmailed by Kinney's twink-turned-husband into dropping his lawsuit still gnawed at him, even now; once he had left Ryder's agency, he had never been able to find another employer who would take him seriously. He had finally been relegated to working for a second-rate advertising firm while Kinney managed to open up his own agency later, much to his fury. Now, at last he had a chance to wreak a little revenge on the fucker's life – and his father's. That – plus a large monetary incentive from Turner's campaign – was too good to pass up. He could bullshit better than anyone else, and now was his opportunity to prove that. For the right amount of money, he would say anything.

"Shit," Turner muttered in disgust at Thomas' statement; he didn't like having to rely on a fag to bring another one down, but he knew when he had first been in touch with Stockwell that sometimes you had to force down your revulsion and make a deal with the lesser of two devils to get what you wanted. And he wanted this job – badly.

He peered intently over at the other man then for a closer look as suddenly a feeling of déjà vu washed over him. "You…You look familiar somehow," he murmured. The man was a few years older than when he thought he had first seen him, but still – there was something that made him think he should know him. "Have we met before?" he finally asked.

The older man smirked at him. "Yes, as a matter of fact we have. Your company used to run deliveries for me throughout the state. _Tire_ deliveries."

Turner stared at the other man who was about the same age as he was until he finally shook his head in resignation. "Sorry…Your name escapes me." He looked over at Stockwell for assistance.

Stockwell rolled his eyes in barely-controlled civility. "Marvin Telson? Telson Tire Company?"

Turner's face morphed into an expression of remembrance. "Yeah…I remember you now! My company used to pick up pallets of your tires and take them to all the big tire chains." He smiled apologetically. "I'm sorry – I think I only met you once; I normally communicated with your comptroller over shipments. But I want to thank you for all the business that you…"

"Can it, Turner," Stockwell growled. "We don't have time for you to kiss his ass! We've got more important things to take care of here."

Turner glared at Stockwell before he turned his attention back to Telson and took a deep breath to calm himself. "I don't get it," he admitted as he looked at him. "What are YOU doing here? What do you have to do with this?" He could understand why the other man might be important – if Kinney really HAD pressured him into some sort of sexual tryst at the workplace, that would reflect poorly indeed on his father's campaign. But what did this tire executive have to do with anything?

"Just shut up and listen, Turner," Stockwell growled, so tired of the man's blubbering. "Telson contacted your office and told them he had some dirt on O'Connor's campaign manager that he wanted to share with the opposition. As instructed, they forwarded his call to me and we met yesterday in Pittsburgh." He turned to the older man to say, "Tell him what you told me, Telson."

The dark-haired man nodded. "Several years ago, I contracted with an advertising agency in Pittsburgh to have a new campaign created to market my tires to a new demographic audience. My business had been steadily going downhill and I felt I needed a fresh approach. A business acquaintance of mine recommended that I try the Ryder Agency and I wound up there. Kinney happened to be the ad executive that pitched the marketing campaign to me. He _also _wound up propositioning me later when we met at a club for drinks to hammer out the details."

Telson knew that was an outright lie; HE had been the one to pursue Kinney until the man had actually agreed to meet him at his hotel room for a one-night tryst to satisfy his curiosity in exchange for his business. He had set eyes on the sexy brunet from the moment he had laid eyes on him in Ryder's conference room and knew he had to have him. They had just gotten down to business in his room later, however, when his wife had called to tell him their daughter had had the bad luck to break her arm; despite his wanting to remain at the hotel to suck Kinney's impressive cock and engage in some all-night fucking with the handsome, younger man, to his dismay Kinney had insisted instead on ending their rendezvous and having him go home instead, even though there was nothing he could have done that couldn't have waited.

Kinney, though, hadn't seen it that way. He had practically run out the door the moment he had had the opportunity, sacrificing his only chance to obtain his lucrative business and incurring his wrath over being embarrassed and rejected. The anger and humiliation he had felt at being thwarted had festered over the years, increasing as he watched Kinney's company grow into the biggest agency in the state, to the point that when he saw who was heading up Fintan O'Connor's gubernatorial campaign and had discovered Kinney was the man's son, his urge for retribution culminated in his contacting Turner's office. No one rejected Marvin Telson and didn't live to regret it. He had finally seen the perfect opportunity to pay Kinney back after all these years and he had promptly reached out and grabbed it. Here was his chance to maintain that Kinney had tried to come on to him, a happily-married man, in exchange for his business.

He wasn't afraid of what his ex-wife might do should she find out about him coming forward with his story about how Kinney had tried to force himself on him; part of their divorce decree had stated unequivocally that neither she nor he could comment on each other's private lives or their divorce agreement would be null and void. Besides, she was now living in California and didn't stay too up-to-date on what happened in his life anymore. She knew about his homosexuality and was disgusted by it; the only time they ever had contact with each other was when she sought an increase in her alimony money. If she knew what was good for her pocketbook, then, even if she DID find out about his allegations, she would keep her big, fat mouth firmly shut.

Turner's mouth gaped open as he stared at the two men. "Incredible. He _forced _himself on you – BOTH of you?"

Stockwell smiled. "Well, that's going to be our story. If we can't manage to smear O'Connor himself, then we can focus on the next-best thing; his queer son."

Turner eyes narrowed as he scrutinized the two other men. "What exactly does that mean, Stockwell? _That's going to be our story_. Are you telling me that's not what actually happened?"

"What _difference_ does it make, Turner? The point is they're prepared to state unequivocally that that is what happened in front of the media. By then, it won't matter if it happened exactly that way or not. His campaign will be damaged beyond repair and you will come out ahead."

Turner let out a tense breath; what had he gotten himself into? "I don't know, Stockwell…This sounds very risky…"

"Do you want the fucking governor's job or not, Turner?" Stockwell snarled. "Because this is politics, Turner; there's no place for a pussy boy here. Either man up now or I'm out, along with all my support and know-how. What's it going to be?" Secretly, Stockwell fervently wished that there was a third possibility for a gubernatorial candidate; he couldn't stomach O'Connor winning and yet Turner needed to grow a spine. What a choice! He eyed the other man unflinchingly until he saw the moment of grudging acceptance appear on the other man's face and knew he had won.

"Yeah…Yeah, Stockwell, I want it, damn you!" Turner growled, finally showing a little backbone for a change. "Okay…We'll play it your way. What do you want me to do?"

"You're going to have your campaign manager schedule a press conference tomorrow morning so Thomas and Telson can tell their stories. They will make a statement regarding what happened, but NOT take questions. That will be more than sufficient to serve our purpose, at least for now." He smiled in pleasure. "Let Kinney try and squirm his way out of _these_ allegations."

Turner nodded reluctantly, still not comfortable with the slimy nature of Stockwell's assistance. He had a strong suspicion that there was a lot more to Thomas' and Telson's stories than met the eye, but what choice did he have? He had to strike back and hit O'Connor's campaign where it was vulnerable, and everyone on his team insisted that the best way to do that was to appeal to the conservatives in the state who found O'Connor and his son's lifestyles repugnant and immoral. The best way to reinforce that feeling, then, was to demonstrate just how depraved they were, and these two men in his office appeared to be their best hope of doing that.

The latest polls showed him trailing by at least ten percentage points throughout the state; if he didn't do something drastic and soon, he may never be able to make up the difference. He sighed in resignation, wanting the job so badly he could almost taste it. It was now or never. "All right," he said, hoping he wasn't making a huge mistake trusting this man. "I'll do it."

* * *

_A/N: Thanks to Boriqua522 for checking this over for me.:)_


	20. Revelation and Deceit

_Two men thought long forgotten appear suddenly in support of the other candidate; Brian discovers a shocking secret from long ago regarding Justin._ _Will it tear the four men apart or unite them in resolve?_

* * *

_Next Morning – Fullerton, Pennsylvania near Allentown _

_Campaign RV – 6:30 a.m._

Brian groaned as he heard his cell phone ringing on the nearby night table. He opened one eye, noticing Justin's body lying stomach down across his chest, his hair tickling his skin as he reached across the slender frame to locate his phone and flip it open, not recognizing the number of the caller.

"Yeah?" he mumbled softly, not wanting to awaken his husband, although he suspected it wouldn't disturb him too much anyway; when Justin fell asleep he wasn't the easiest person to rouse. He had found that fucking him into consciousness seemed to be the best method, but he suspected he wouldn't be enjoying that particular pleasure this morning.

"It's Adam Stewart," a terse voice responded.

Brian looked at the time displayed on his phone and growled, "Why the fuck are you calling at _this _time of day? Our staff meeting isn't scheduled for two more hours."

From his place sitting cross-legged on his bed in the hotel room, Stewart fumed; for a campaign manager, Kinney certainly didn't seem too concerned with why one of his staff would be calling him so early. He was probably interrupting his fucking time with his queer husband. _Well, enjoy your perversion while you can, Kinney; your time is almost up. _He took a deep breath so as not to betray his revulsion for the man supposed to be his superior and to keep the satisfaction out of his voice as he advised, "I just got a call from a college friend of mine who's working for Turner's camp. He was bragging about some news conference being scheduled at 8:00 a.m. this morning by their campaign manager and being carried live by WALN. Said it was going to be explosive information about our campaign that will destroy any chance we have of O'Connor being elected."

Brian snorted. "And you bought that drivel? They'll say anything to slant the polls," he grumbled. Noticing Justin beginning to stir in his sleep, he reached over with his free hand and gently trailed his fingers along the pale cheek in reassurance. He noticed a small smile spread across Justin's lips and couldn't help returning the same expression. He sighed at the other man's gullibility but neverthless responded, "Okay, Fin doesn't have the next town meeting scheduled for Allentown until noon anyway; we'll push the staff meeting back to 9:30; let everyone else know."

Adam pursed his lips together in anger over the other man's arrogance; _who did he think he was – a fucking servant boy_? He bit his tongue, though, knowing the end result would be more than worth his restraint as he replied evenly, "Okay. We'll meet you here at the campaign bus at 9:30 then."

"We'll be there." Brian snapped his phone shut, wondering what in the hell that was all about. Knowing the kid that Fin had recruited to work for him, though, he suspected he was blowing whatever it was way out of proportion and getting worked up over nothing. He sighed as he dropped his cell phone down on the mattress next to him, turning his body to gaze into the now-open, half-drowsy blue eyes staring back at him.

"Something wrong?" Justin whispered as Brian reached down to intertwine their fingers together and raise them to his lips to give the pale knuckles a brief kiss while his husband gazed up at him sleepily.

Brian smiled at him in reassurance and shook his head as he let go of Justin's hand. "Nah – just Stewart turning all drama queen on me. Said he got a call from some old college buddy of his who's working for the 'enemy' (he used air quotes as he said it) who claims there's some kind of news conference scheduled for 8:00 this morning that is supposed to severely affect Fin's chances of being elected Governor."

Justin twisted his body so he could look more clearly into Brian's eyes and frowned. "He didn't say what it was about?"

Brian shook his head. "No, that's about all he knew. I told him I would push the staff meeting back to 9:30 so we can take a look first; it's supposed to be broadcast live on Ch. 8. Chances are it's just a case of Turner's people blowing smoke up their asses, though."

Justin scooted up in the bed so he could sit with his back against the headboard as Brian joined him. "Broadcast live? That sounds kind of serious, Brian."

Brian gazed into the concerned blue eyes intently. "I'm sure it'll be fine; you know how people can blow things out of proportion – not that I know anyone like that personally."

Justin rolled his eyes at the 'queen out' connotation as Brian smirked at him. "No, me, either," Justin murmured innocently as Brian grinned.

"But you could blow ME if you want, though," he added helpfully as he waggled his eyebrows suggestively at Justin.

To his disappointment, however, Justin merely smiled back at him over his attempt at humor and disentangled himself from Brian as he started to scoot over toward the side of the bed; he was stopped by a muscular hand that promptly latched onto his wrist.

"Where do you think YOU'RE going, Sunshine?"

Justin twisted his upper body to look behind his shoulder and say, "If the press conference is going to be at 8:00 we need to get showered and dressed so we can watch it."

Brian huffed in disbelief. "Have I taught you nothing? A fuck a day keeps the critics away. Or, in our case, three or four. Now get that hot little ass back over here so we can wake up the _right_ way."

"But…"

"Butt is right," Brian quipped. "Butt, ass, whatever you want to call it. Just get it back in bed." He promptly tightened his grip on Justin's wrist and gave it a strong pull to drag him back over to his side of the bed, the blond winding up flat on his back with a solid 'oomph.'

"Brian," he chided him as his husband gazed down at him from above with that 'little-boy' curl of his lips that he still found so endearing. "We _are_ going to take a shower, you know." Of course, both men knew what 'shower' meant, and it didn't just involve personal hygiene.

Brian rose up on his haunches and rested his knees in between Justin's legs to stare down into the wide blue eyes, so deep and expressive. He always could tell what Justin was thinking merely by looking into his eyes, and this was no exception. His voice may have been saying 'later,' but his eyes were definitely saying 'go for it.' He smirked. "Yes, we _are_ going to take a shower – after we fuck, because you're always a very horny, messy little boy when we get down and dirty."

Justin snorted, not bothering to mention the fact that it was usually because Brian had his dick stuck up his ass and therefore had a more convenient method to avoid being quite so 'dirty.' Instead, he decided it wouldn't be so bad to just play along as he said in mock resignation, "Well, then, it'd better be a _thorough_ shower because I'm feeling especially dirty this morning."

Brian grinned. "I was hoping you'd say that," he said, just before he swooped in for a deep kiss.

* * *

_One Hour Later – 7:30 a.m. – Outside Turner Logistics Main Headquarters – Wilkes-Barres, Pa_

Richard Turner's campaign manager, a swarthy-looking man by the name of Leo Underwood, pulled the heavy, navy-blue cotton curtains aside just enough to observe the bulging phalanx of media people standing impatiently outside Turner's business, waiting for the candidate to appear for his much-heralded news conference scheduled in thirty minutes. The 50ish, dark-haired, slightly overweight man turned to look at the two men who would be front and center at the news conference, still not convinced that they were doing the right thing by engaging in such nasty tactics as dredging up salacious details regarding Brian Kinney's past sex life.

It wasn't that Underwood hadn't seen such down-and-dirty means employed before; after all, this would be the fifth campaign he had managed, starting with an old friend's run for city council back in his home town of Philadelphia, and in the twenty-plus years he had been running campaigns ever since he had pretty much seen and done it all in order for his candidate to be elected. But this was a new one, even for him. To go after the candidate's gay son, who also happened to be his campaign manager? He had to admit, though, that if the allegations were true, it would definitely have a negative impact on O'Connor's insistence that his personal life was irrelevant to the campaign and his ability to run the state. Even the most liberal of constituents would have to admit that the unsavory details that would emerge of Kinney pushing himself onto unsuspecting and unwilling employees and clients to satisfy his sexual urges was totally unacceptable and a poor reflection, fair or not, on his gay candidate father.

Pulling the curtains together again to preserve their privacy, he turned around and glanced over at his candidate who appeared to be nervous about the upcoming event as well – despite the early morning hour, Turner was presently nursing a half-warm scotch in his hand and jiggling his legs up and down restlessly while he sat on the edge of the office couch, right next to the two men who would be accompanying him up to the podium that had been temporarily set up on the front stoop of his corporate headquarters.

He caught his candidate's eye as Turner stood up and walked over to him. Grasping him by the lower arm, Underwood pulled him over to a corner of his office, away from Thomas and Telson who were quietly conversing together, no doubt comparing notes about what they were going to say. There was just something slimy about the two men that frankly bothered even him, but he knew what they were about to say would have a dramatic impact on the direction the campaign was going. Turner was losing by at least 10 percentage points in the latest polls; they were going to need whatever leverage they could get, unsavory or not, to change that alarming trend.

Their backs to the other men as well as the other members of his staff speaking curiously to one another, no doubt wondering what was going on since they had been left in the dark so far, Turner leaned in toward Underwood to say, "You think we're doing the right thing, going public with this?" Despite what he had said to Stockwell yesterday, the whole thing still left an extremely sour taste in his mouth.

"I don't see that we have any choice," his campaign manager flatly told him, his eyes boring into his. "I'm going to be straight with you, Turner; your popularity is tanking big time. You need something that's going to take the wind out of O'Connor's sails, and this might just do it. If you ask me, you don't have an alternative, not if you want to catch him by November. We couldn't have come up with something more damaging if we had scripted it."

Turner glanced over at the two other men; Stockwell had wisely decided not to show up today for fear his role in his campaign would be revealed. "I'm still not sure…"

"Listen, Turner!" Underwood growled. "I'm the best at what I do, and I know what I'm doing. _Your_ job is to stand up there on the podium, look like a leader and keep your fucking mouth shut after your initial statement is made so those two sleaze balls can do their dirty work, you got it?"

"Yeah," Turner muttered as the man stomped off, not sure if Underwood was better or worse than Stockwell. His initial dream to run a clean campaign based on his hard-working, conservative work ethic had somehow dissolved into slimy smear tactics. Was his dream of being elected governor worth sinking this low? For years now he had hungered to run for political office, his ego boosted by business associates over the years who had assured him that his business acumen would be perfect for running the state. They had told him how refreshing it would be to actually have someone in office who knew how to efficiently run an operation, telling him that his sort of talent at instinctively knowing how to coordinate and multi-task would be perfect for what was needed to straighten out all of the state's economic woes. And he had ultimately taken their compliments to heart, deciding that this was the year, this was the moment for him.

Now, though, as he looked over at Underwood who had returned to the couch and was speaking quietly to the two men who were about to expose Kinney's seamier side, he wondered if he had lost his way somewhere along the line. He sighed; he felt like he was in too deep to back out now, though; he felt the weight of all the Republican constituents on his back, depending on him to come out victorious over the man they felt was morally incapable of being their leader. He owed them big time - both financially as well as ethically. No, he was in it for the long haul, one way or the other, and he would have to trust that this man who had been recommended to him to be his campaign manager knew what he was doing.

He watched as Telson and Thomas stood up and walked over to him, Underwood standing next to them. He felt his heart begin to pound as they approached, and he had to take a hard swallow and a deep breath to calm his frayed nerves.

"Okay, it's time," Underwood advised him. "Gentlemen," he acknowledged the two men with a nod. "This way." The three began to walk toward the office door, Underwood turning as he noticed their candidate hanging back. "Let's go, Turner; you have to be there, too, you ARE the candidate."

It seemed to Turner that Underwood almost spat that last word out as if he had tasted something sour or distasteful. _Nice of you to remember that…_He grudgingly picked up his pace just a little as Underwood held the door open for him and the other two men; he could hear the bustling sounds of the crowd outside now as he walked out into the hallway.

As he met back up with the three men, Underwood added, "Remember, gentlemen, we are NOT taking any questions afterward; let them all digest what we tell them and rake O'Connor and his fag son over the coals first." He smirked. "This should be a lot of fun."

* * *

_Same Time – Fin's RV_

Tony and Justin sat at the small kitchen table sipping from their mugs of coffee, watching as Brian fiddled with the remote while he searched for Ch. 8 on the flat-screen TV built in above the driver's seat; Fin was finishing getting dressed back in his bedroom after being awakened earlier by his son, informing him of the news conference about to take place.

"You have no idea whatsoever what this is all about?" Tony asked from his seat. "That's all Stewart told you?"

Brian finally located the channel and turned to shake his head. "That's all he knew apparently. Fucking strange, if you ask me. I mean, the Governor's race is important but I can't imagine what would warrant breaking in live to cover a news conference."

"Me, neither," Fin said as he walked up to the front of the RV, dressed in a pair of black linen slacks and a partially unbuttoned, maroon-colored silk dress shirt, his hair still damp from his shower. He leaned down to smile at his partner and gave him a brief kiss on the cheek, reaching for the extra cup of black coffee that Tony had already poured for him that was lying on the table, before he carried it over to stand next to his son whose eyes were craned upward at the television set.

"I guess we're about to find out, though," Fin observed as they watched the newscaster, a well-known blond-haired man, appearing on screen after returning from a commercial break.

"As we stated at the top of this newscast, we are breaking away live this morning to carry an impromptu news conference that is taking place at the business headquarters of Richard Turner, the Republican candidate for Governor." The man could be seen apparently listening to the mike stuck in his ear as he cocked his head and nodded. "We're going to cut away now for that event."

All eyes in the RV were trained on the television as they observed a large crowd gathered in front of a low-slung, brick building with the words "_Turner Logistics_" prominently emblazoned at the top; a small, serious-looking group was standing at the top of the steps behind a podium festooned with a bank of microphones from each of the three local stations as well as some national news networks.

All four men immediately recognized Richard Turner, who was standing front and center, as well as his campaign manager, Leo Underwood; the other men and women standing behind him were mainly obscured at the present time, but it was apparent that there were approximately a dozen people milling around him as Turner began to speak.

"Good Morning, Ladies and Gentlemen," Turner began somberly; his hands gripping the side of the wooden podium for support. Only those that were standing within a few feet of him were aware of his need to grip something, anything, to keep his clammy-feeling hands from shaking. This was a subject matter that he was not thoroughly comfortable with addressing, but he also knew his campaign manager, as well as Stockwell, had drummed into him that it was the only way to knock some of O'Connor's impressive lead away from him.

He took a quiet breath and paused for a moment as he intoned clearly, "I am not here this morning to make a speech as one of your candidates for Governor; that is best held for another time and place. Nor will I – or those who will speak after me – be answering any questions this morning. But some concerns have been brought to my attention by a couple citizens of this great state that I feel highlight some serious moral flaws in my opponent's choice of campaign manager, Brian Kinney, who also happens to be Senator O'Connor's son, that cannot be ignored and shine an ugly spotlight on just what sort of person will be leading our state if he succeeds in being elected Governor. After hearing what they have to say, I think you will agree that we cannot let that happen. Gentlemen?"

At the mention of Brian's name, Justin sucked in a breath. What the fuck? He glanced over at Brian, whose face was drawn into a tight scowl, no doubt wondering the same thing.

Turner held his hand out in invitation and stepped back as an older but instantly familiar man emerged from behind him; Justin couldn't help letting out a shocked gasp like the wind had been knocked out of him as Brian merely muttered, "Shit," under his breath.

"Who is that?" Fin whispered but Brian and Justin simply stared up at the screen and ignored his question; he and Tony exchanged curious glances as they noticed a frown of disgust on Brian's face and a look of dread on Justin's.

The dark-haired man, who appeared to be in his mid-thirties, walked up to the podium with a sort of swagger and looked out at the sea of faces; the crowd went quiet as he faced them and plastered a sort of nervous, almost scared look on his face. He was wearing a plain, medium-brown, long-sleeved cotton shirt with the top two buttons undone and a pair of dark blue jeans; despite his relatively plain appearance and his average looks, the expression on his face changed to one of almost satisfaction at being the certain of attention as he cleared his throat before beginning to speak.

"My name is Kip Thomas. Several years ago I used to work at an agency in Pittsburgh by the name of Ryder Advertising. Soon after I started there, I was asked by Mr. Ryder to sit in on a strategy meeting regarding one of the agency's clients where I met one of his top executives, Brian Kinney. Mr. Kinney seemed to like my ideas for the campaign and asked me to remain in his office afterward to discuss them further."

Fin frowned as he looked over at his son, whose jaw was set at an angry angle and his eyes were narrowed in what looked like hatred. Whatever history there was between this man and his son was apparently not a pleasant memory. He exchanged glances with Tony before he quickly returned his glance upward to the television screen as the man continued to speak, feeling his partner's hand grasping his upper arm as if he, too, had a premonition that what the man was about to say was not going to be positive.

"After our meeting adjourned and the two other co-workers left, however, Mr. Kinney drew the blinds and locked the door. He walked up to me and began to unbutton my shirt, telling me that if I wanted to move ahead in the company I would do whatever he demanded."

A gasp erupted from the audience as Brian's face promptly turned red with rage. "Motherfucking piece of shit!" He spat out as Thomas's lies smoothly rolled off his tongue. He turned for a couple of seconds to look at Justin who had gripped his wrist and was staring back at him, his eyes full of something he couldn't quite fathom – sympathy? Dismay? He wasn't sure.

Thomas hesitated as he rubbed his hand across his face as if he were trying to build up his courage to continue; if nothing else he was a consummate actor and was going to milk this for all it was worth. Revenge was such a sweet taste on his tongue as he continued, "Afterward, he threatened to have me fired if I reported what had happened, and he told me that I needed to come to his loft later that week, supposedly to finish our business. Only it wasn't that _kind_ of business," he said, his lips drawn tightly together as everyone made the connection.

"I really needed my job, so I agreed to go," he explained, his voice sounding like it was faltering, "but instead soon after I got there he forced me to submit to him again, repeating that if I wanted him to recommend me for a promotion I would do whatever he wanted." He seemed to wipe away a couple of tears from his eyes as the crowd remained stunned into silence; he was fortunately just far enough away from the crowd for them not to notice how dry his eyes actually were.

"I'm going to kill that lying piece of shit!" Brian growled as his eyes flashed in fury. He stood frozen in place, unable to move as he continued to stare in disbelief at the screen. Justin broke off his grip on his wrist to silently slide his arm around his husband's waist, feeling the tension underneath his touch. Brian's entire body was wired with electric fury as both of them watched the drama unfolding above them.

Thomas appeared to struggle to speak as he said, "I…I didn't want to cause any trouble, being new and all, but I couldn't take anymore after that, so I finally worked up the courage to file a sexual harassment suit agaiinst Kinney and report him to Mr. Ryder, the CEO. The case was due to be mediated in court a few weeks later," he advised, waiting a moment before he continued to emphasize it, "but I had to eventually drop it when I was subjected to blackmail at the hands of Mr. Kinney's teenage lover."

As soon as the words were out, all the blood drained from Justin's face in shock as he dropped his hand from around Brian's waist and shrunk back as if he had been hit. _God…No…_ He didn't dare look over at Brian, his father or Tony, not wanting to see the look in their eyes at the moment. He had thought that secret had been buried once and for all.

Thomas intentionally stumbled over his next words for effect as he explained, "I…I was propositioned at a bar a few days before the case was due to go to court by a stranger who encouraged me to take him home to my apartment for a drink. He was young and beautiful and seemed attracted to me, so I admit I was flattered. When we got there, though, he proceeded to try and seduce me before informing me that he was underage and would report me to his father, who had a violent temper, unless I agreed to drop my allegations against Mr. Kinney. He told me that his father had beaten up someone else before for the same reason and the person had wound up in jail for being with an underage minor, so I agreed to do what he asked. I soon found out the age of consent in Pennsylvania is actually 16, and that this 'stranger' was none other than Mr. Kinney's manipulative, seventeen-year-old lover, the same man who is now his _husband_." Thomas spit out the last word as if it were the most distasteful sound in the world; even now the way he had been played by Taylor made his blood boil. He wanted nothing more than to explain in graphic detail exactly how he had been masterfully tricked by that less-than-innocent looking teenage twink, but he knew it was important that he be portrayed as the hapless victim here. The thought of making BOTH men squirm instead made him feel inordinately pleased with himself and helped to assuage just a little of the bitterness he had been carrying around for so long now - that and the generous payout he would be getting.

Brian's eyes widened in incredulity; _Justin_ had been responsible for getting Kip Thomas to mysteriously drop his lawsuit against him? HE had been the reason why it had happened? Had he possessed that little faith in him that he could take care of it himself? All this time Justin had kept that a secret and he hadn't said a word. Didn't he realize what a risk he might have been taking by going home with that volatile prick? He could have been hurt – badly. What was he _thinking_? He turned to look at Justin, whose eyes were wide with what looked like remorse. There was no doubt in that moment that at least Kip was telling the truth about _that _part; it was written all over Justin's face.

"Brian…" He began, but Brian quickly pursed his lips together and held his hand up to silence him as Fin and Tony stared over at the two men, wondering which parts of Thomas's story were truths and which were lies, because apparently there were both hidden in his statement.

"After I dropped the lawsuit, I was summarily let go from the company and I was effectively blackballed from working for any other reputable advertising agency ever since. Thanks to Brian Kinney's inability to control his sexual appetite and his teenage lover's blackmail scheme, I never was able to find a good job in my field again. I have come forward today of my own free volition to bring these facts out into the open, to inform all the people of Pennsylvania just what sort of moral character – or should I say, lack thereof – that you will be entrusting your care to if you vote his father into office. Whether you accept me as a gay man or not doesn't matter; what _does _matter is that this episode points out what sort of people are working for O'Connor's campaign. The apple does not fall from the tree, ladies and gentlemen; I hope you will keep that in mind and take heed. I guess that's all I have to say. Thank you for your time."

The crowd quickly erupted into a babble of shouted questions at Thomas as he turned to leave the podium, having been commanded to ignore any pleas for additional information as part of his agreement for payment. That didn't prevent the press from trying, however, as they continued to pelt Thomas with questions until he was swallowed up into the group behind the podium and another man, taller and older, emerged to take his place.

Justin's blinked to keep the tears from falling that were stinging his eyes as he urgently tried again to get his husband's attention; he knew there was going to be hell to pay soon, and not just due to the fallout from what Thomas was trying to do; there was going to be something much more personal that he and Brian were going to have to clear the air about. He knew he never should have kept that from him, but how was he to know it would come back to haunt them _now_? That had been years – and so many lifetimes – ago. Why now? How did Turner even find out about him? How did he locate the fucker and persuade him to get up in front of a live television audience to spout such filthy, boldfaced lies? There was no way he was doing it out of support for the other man; Kip Thomas didn't do anything that didn't benefit him directly. He stood there in stunned disbelief, knowing that he had to make Brian understand why he had done what he had felt compelled to do; it was simply done out of love – deep, abiding love for him and his fear over what would have happened to him if no one had stood up to the other man.

He took a deep breath and angrily brushed the moisture away, knowing now was not the time to come across as weak as he started again. He reached out to try and take Brian's arm by the wrist. "Brian, please…" But he was promptly shut down again as Brian moved just out of contact.

"Not now, Justin," Brian told him with deadly calm as he fixed a steely gaze up on the television screen; he had just seen another face that was familiar to him and his blood began to boil with rage. It had been years ago, but one trait that made him so valuable and excellent at what he did was the fact that he had an uncanny knack of always remembering a client's face. This was one time, though, that he wished he didn't have that talent; if he could have, he would have reached into the screen and choked the fucking daylights out of both Kip Thomas and the asshole who was walking up to the podium to speak next. Now he knew the other side was making a concerted effort to make him and his father look as bad as possible; this could be no coincidence. He also began to realize just how much his past was about to come back to haunt both him and his father.

Fin bit his lip as he watched both the scene on television and the one in front of him playing out; he did not believe for one second that his son had forced himself on anyone, but from the way that he and Justin were acting he didn't quite know _what _to think. Obviously there was more to what was going on than he was privy to at the moment, and from the rigid stance his son was projecting as he gazed up at the next speaker on the television screen, there was more to come. He glanced over at Tony as he felt him tighten his grip on his waist and instinctively wrapped his own arm around the slender frame next to him, somehow knowing he was going to need his support.

Marvin Telson stepped up to the podium, a commanding figure with his tall stature and crisply-pressed suit and tie; he was wearing a dark, navy-blue jacket and pants with a tasteful silver pinstripe in them, a navy blue tie and a bright, white shirt, the epitome of a successful businessman. Truthfully, his wife had taken him to the cleaners earlier during their divorce, but today he wanted to project himself as a man who demanded attention and respect. He waited for the din of the crowd to die down somewhat before he began to speak, silently hoping his acting would be convincing enough to both bring desired shame and humiliation on O'Connor's camp, Kinney in particular, as well as provide him with the compensation he had been promised for following through on his charade.

He tapped on the nearest microphone once, knowing after Thomas had just spoken that it had to be turned on, but trying to bide some time so he could compose his thoughts. He reached into his pocket and retrieved a folded piece of paper to use a crutch to help him recall all that he wanted to remember as he lifted his gaze to look out over the sea of interested faces staring back at him. Taking a breath, he began to speak, rather softly at first but picking up in both volume and confidence as he continued.

"My name is Marvin Telson. I used to own a large business in the Pennsylvania area, and had heard of the Ryder Agency through a mutual business acquaintance several years ago when I was seeking an advertising agency to help me boost my market share in the tire industry. I met with Ryder and his executives in their conference room to have a new campaign pitched to me, which incidentally I did not like. The main executive trying to persuade me to use his marketing approach was none other than Brian Kinney, a cocky, arrogant, SOB who thought he knew best when it came to my business. When he realized that I was not interested in his campaign, but would be taking my business elsewhere, though, he tried initially to get me to attend a baseball game with him, which I declined."

"Son of a bitch," Brian spat out as the lies rolled glibly off the man's tongue.

Justin, who was standing silently next to him, had no idea who this other man was, still reeling at seeing Kip Thomas spewing his astounding secret for all the world to see. He watched as the veins bulged in Brian's neck and his face turned red, both indications that he was furious at the moment. He reached out again to try and touch Brian, to reassure him that everything would somehow be all right, but Brian backed away as his eyes never left the screen above them. Justin glanced over at Tony who wore a sympathetic look on his face, but neither man could remove their own attention for long from the man presently speaking as they, too, lifted their eyes to listen to him.

"Mr. Kinney was very persistent, however. He found out which hotel I was staying at and somehow determined what my room number was, because the next night he knocked on my door. Being brought up in the south where it was courteous to treat everyone with respect, I allowed him inside, which turned out to be a grave mistake. Mr. Kinney proceeded to remove his clothing and try to engage me in nefarious activities in the deluded hope of obtaining my business, even though I was a happily-married man at the time. Fortunately, his attempt was thwarted by an alarming call I received, telling me my daughter had broken her arm in a sports accident, and I was able to check out of the hotel unharmed after telling Mr. Kinney to leave."

"That's a boldfaced lie!" Brian shouted at the screen. "Mother fucking piece of shit! You're _lying_!"

"Brian…" Justin entreated as he reached over persistenly, this time successfully, to grasp Brian's wrist. But Brian violently grabbed it away as Justin's eyes widened in surprise. He whirled to look at his husband and the other two men, his eyes almost wild like a feral animal's. "He's lying!" he repeated once more. "He ASKED me to come there when we went to Babylon – he _wanted _me to fuck him! He's a closet fag and a lying bastard!"

Justin bit his lower lip anxiously, not sure what to do; the entire RV was quickly becoming thick with tension as Telson continued his speech to the press and Brian began to pace tightly back and forth in the confines of the RV in high agitation.

"Just like the other man before me, I volunteered to come here today, to subject myself to this abject humiliation for the sole purpose of exposing Kinney for the man he really is – a perverted, aggressive, evil man who thinks nothing of forcing himself on others for the sake of his own distorted pleasure. Is this the sort of man whose father who want running our state? It doesn't matter if he is gay or straight; that is not for me to judge. What DOES matter is his moral character, and I am convinced that Mr. Kinney has no moral compass at all. I implore all of the voters to think carefully about what sort of man is closely associated with one of your candidates for Governor. If you do, I think your choice for that office will be made crystal clear. Thank you."

Once more, a loud din erupted as Telson turned to leave the podium, reporters shouting out questions that would go frustratingly unanswered. As soon as it was apparent that no one else, including Turner who silently left the stoop to return inside, would be speaking, viewers watched a virtual herd of reporters rushing off to no doubt report on the mind-shattering accounts that had just been given regarding O'Connor's campaign manager and son.

The news program broke back into its normal programming as the broadcaster appeared back on screen to conclude the live feed interruption, both his voice as well as his expression gravely serious. He turned to his female co-anchor as he commented, "Well, that was certainly unexpected. If these allegations are true, it could have serious ramifications indeed for the O'Connor campaign; at the very least, it has certainly cast an unseemly shadow on the frontrunner's reputation."

His cohort, a redheaded woman in her early 30's who had been teamed with him for the past five years – a virtual lifetime in the news business as far as tenure went – nodded. "I guess it remains to be seen whether this is a last-minute, desperate ploy on the part of Turner's team to retake the lead from the frontrunner, or if this really is a truthful account of what happened. Also, it will be interesting to see if voters are able to separate the actual candidate from his son and fairly judge his qualifications on their own merit."

The male commentator nodded. "Yes, that's a good point. The allegations apparently happened some time ago and do not involve the Senator directly. Only time will tell if his legislative record of leadership as a district senator will help him to overcome these very disturbing allegations."

"Shut it off," Fin demanded gruffly from his place near the television, noting that Brian was closest to the remote; he had seen more than enough. His son, however, continued to stand there, rigid and inflexible as he remained fixed to his spot, staring up at the television screen with his mouth hung slightly open as if in shock, disgust, or both.

Tony, noticing this, left Fin's side to walk over to the dashboard of the RV and, picking up the remote, promptly aimed it at the screen and turned the television off, bathing the interior in an eerie silence. He looked over at Justin, who took a shaky breath and appeared ashen, his heart going out to him. He had a multitude of questions he was dying to ask him about his part in what had just been disclosed, but he knew it would have to wait. From what he had seen, he had a feeling his friend and Fin's son had a lot to discuss among themselves first. And no matter which parts of the statements were true or not, there was going to be a hell of a lot of damage control that was going to have to be done; even without being a political expert, he could discern that easily.

He placed the remote down and walked back over to Fin, who reached to grasp his hand. Their eyes bored into each other as they turned to look over at Brian and Justin, who remained stonily silent. He was just about to pull on Fin's hand to excuse themselves to the back of the RV and provide some privacy for the other two men when he heard Fin's cell ringing, jarring the silence unexpectedly.

Fin sighed; he knew this was bound to be the first of many such calls he would be getting. Flipping his phone open and noting who the caller was, he raised it to his ear. "Yeah, Kirk," he answered wearily. "I saw it," he responded before the man even had a chance to say anything.

"I figured you had," his speechwriter answered tersely. "We're getting a shitload of calls about it already from the media, wanting a rebuttal. What the hell are we going to say to them?"

Fin took a deep breath; he thought fleetingly of putting Kirk on speaker, but as he looked over at Brian he decided that wasn't the best of ideas presently. He was astounded to notice that his normally brazen, assertive, and confident son appeared surprisingly broken at the moment. His shoulders were drooped and he was rubbing his face and the top of his head with his hand as he stared straight ahead out into the parking lot from the RV's front window, apparently lost in thought. He had to speak to Brian urgently to get his side of the two men's stories, but he also knew his son and Justin had to hash some things out first.

"You're going to have to hold them off for now, Kirk," he responded as he continued to stare over at his son and son-in-law. "Obviously, I've got to talk to Brian about this first and then we will develop a game plan to counteract the damage."

"But…"

"That's my decision, Kirk," Fin told his subordinate brusquely. "Just tell them we will be issuing a statement shortly and let it go at that; I'll get back to you. In the meantime, the staff meeting is postponed until further notice." He promptly slapped his phone shut before the man could utter any further protest and let out a tense breath. He looked over at Tony before he said to him impulsively, "Let's take a walk." He was extremely grateful at that moment that Brian had managed to find a location to park that was secure from the media. His son had been diligent about preplanning spots along the route that were either out of the way or actually locked at night so the media could not intrude. Brian had surmised that at the end of each day, the four of them would need this brief oasis to refresh and regroup. He knew, however, that at the time he had arranged it Brian had no idea just how critical it would turn out to be.

This morning, they were parked at the rear of a large RV dealership, arranged through the salesman who had rented the vehicle for them. They had been assured that once they parked in the fenced-in area after the dealership was closed for the evening it would be firmly locked down and patrolled by security guards all night long until it reopened at 10:00. The rear of the lot's perimeter was bordered by a park-like setting with tall, mature shade trees and even a couple of picnic tables for employees to enjoy during their lunch breaks. Now, it would serve as a much-needed escape for them while it provided some privacy for Brian and Justin as well as a means for him to clear his head and calm his own swirling emotions currently inside him.

At the sound of Fin's voice, Justin turned to look at him, his eyes reflecting his gratitude for his thoughtfulness. Fin nodded as Tony and Justin locked eyes briefly before the two men walked over to the RV's door and Fin opened it, quietly closing the door behind them.

Justin sighed heavily in anxiety as he bit his lower lip and turned around to look at Brian. He felt incredibly sorry for the man he loved, while at the same time he was extremely worried about Brian's silence, which spoke volumes to him. He knew by the rigid stance of his body and the set of his jaw that he was very angry in a deadly calm sort of way. He suspected, however, that that quiet was not going to last for long, and he turned out to be absolutely right.

As if he were coming out of a coma, Brian whirled around and turned to face Justin, his eyes a dark brown, almost black as he carefully enunciated each word as his voice increasingly rose in volume. His own problems were temporarily forgotten as he rubbed the top of his head in frustration and asked, "What in the HELL were you thinking, Justin? Were you out of your fucking _mind_?"

Despite his predicament, Justin rose up in indignant righteousness as he replied, "I was trying to save your ass when no one else seemed willing to."

"So you were going to save my ass at the sake of sacrificing your _own_? Did he get to enjoy it as much as I do?" Brian swallowed hard; just the thought of that slimy weasel even touching his husband made his skin crawl and his stomach queasy.

"Fuck you, Brian!" Justin shouted back at him, his eyes flashing. "He didn't even get to blow me! Nothing happened!"

Brian put his hands on his hips as he replied, "Well, _something_ must have happened or he would have just kicked you out on your perky little ass and told you to go to hell; he didn't just drop the lawsuit for nothing, Justin!" He shook his head in disbelief. "We even talked about this at Babylon later, and that was the perfect time to tell me what you had done and you _didn't_! We promised each other that we would never lie to each other again, and now this! What the fuck, Justin?"

Justin huffed out an angry breath. "It's not like this just happened, Brian; it was _years_ ago, even before Ethan! I have not lied to you since then – about _anything!_ I even came clean about Fin before the wedding, remember?" He sighed. "I never thought the subject would ever need to come up again; it should have been put to bed a long time ago! How was I supposed to know it would come up _now_? It was dead and gone – I didn't see a need to dredge up the past."

"You didn't see a need," Brian repeated dully. "You didn't think it was important to tell me that you put your fucking life in danger under some misguided mission to save me from having my reputation ruined or losing my job? Why did you think you needed to interfere in the first place? Didn't you think I had enough sense to get out of it myself? It would have been his word against mine, Justin! The man didn't have any proof whatsoever of his allegations! Even Michael knew what had happened, because I told him about it the next day in the jeep! And you were there when he showed up at the loft – _for business_. The man would never have won!"

Justin harrumphed. "Come on, Brian! Yes, I was there! For about two seconds; long enough for you to let him in. I couldn't have testified as to what happened afterward, and neither could Michael! It would have been total hearsay and not permissible in court! You're going to stand there and tell me that there was no chance you would have lost your job or had your employer fined if you had been found guilty?"

"You've been around Cassinelli way too long," Brian snapped. "I didn't need your help to win, Justin! It was his word against mine – period. If you want to get all legal on me, then fine. No jury in their right mind would have sided with him without a preponderance of the evidence, and they didn't have that! I can't believe you did that; you didn't know that fucker. You could have been hurt, Justin! Hurt really badly! Kip Thomas is a very vindictive, hateful individual; you…you could have been in deep shit for what you did!"

Brian choked up unexpectedly, having to take a deep breath to calm himself down. That was the main reason why he was so upset; not because it appeared that Justin hadn't had enough confidence in him to take care of the situation himself. He knew better than that; Justin practically worshipped the ground he walked on back then. It wasn't even the fact that he had admittedly done something incredibly selfless to try and help him when no one else seemed willing to go to bat for him and had lied about it. No, the real reason was because he had placed his life in jeopardy in order to do so. Even with John, the evil spawn of his sister, it had been Justin then, too, who had saved his ass. Not his best friend, not his boss, but his husband - the man who was presently the unwarranted object of his fury.

In shame he looked over at the man who loved him so unconditionally and his anger began to dissipate at the sorrowful, tearful look on his face. _God, what was he doing?_ He was pouring all of his frustration and hatred out on the one man who didn't deserve it. Truthfully, if this irreversibly affected his father's campaign, he would have no one to blame but himself. Yes, they were telling bold-faced lies about him and he would need to discredit them, and yes, he had matured a great deal and had long ago abandoned his free-wheeling, sexual escapades, but in the long run it had been his promiscuous lifestyle before that had caused what was happening now.

Justin felt like he was seventeen again as he licked his dry lips and whispered, "I'm sorry, Brian. I...I should have told you when it happened." His breath hitched a little and he added softly, unable to meet what his assumed would be his husband's reproachful gaze, "At the very least I should have told you later when we promised not to keep any secrets from each other or lie to each other anymore." He swallowed hard as he gazed out onto the parking lot, "Thanks to my stupidity, Fin's campaign is in deep trouble now."

"Shit, Justin!" Brian growled as he reached over and grabbed Justin to pull him into his arms as he embraced him tightly against his chest, both their hearts beating furiously. He heard Justin hold his breath for a moment in surprise before he, too, wound his arms around Brian's waist and pulled him even closer. They stayed that way for several seconds, Brian's hands slowly caressing his husband's back before finally he pulled apart to stare down into Justin's tearstained face. "If anyone is to blame for this mess, it's me," he told him firmly, his hands coming up to cup his face as he tenderly wiped the tears away from his cheeks. "If I hadn't been so intent on fucking everything with two legs and a dick, they wouldn't have been able to get up there and spout those preposterous lies today. So if anyone's to blame, Sunshine, it's me."

"Brian…"

But Brian shook his head. "No, it's true. I'm the one who should be apologizing to _you – _and thanking you for what you did for me back then. Because you DID save my ass, Justin; I was just too damn proud to admit it a while ago. I was scared shitless that he really WOULD manage to have me fired – or worse. He could be very persuasive when he wanted to be and he was a smart little fucker. He might just have succeeded – if it hadn't been for _you_."

Justin closed his eyes briefly as relief washed over him that Brian was no longer angry with him; he knew now that his fury had been directed more toward his safety than over what he had done. His eyes fluttered open as he felt Brian's lips tentatively touch his, almost as if he were asking to be forgiven. Their eyes met before his parted his mouth willingly to deepen the kiss, one that was emotion-felt and spoke volumes of their abiding love for each other.

They finally pulled back after several seconds to catch their breath as Brian leaned his forehead against his husband's and whispered in frank admission, "I'm not sure this is repairable, Justin. Even though it's not directed at Fin specifically, I'm expert enough in advertising to know that this is bad for Fin's campaign…very bad."

Justin eyes widened; this wasn't like Brian. Surely he wasn't just giving up? He shook his head in protest and opened his mouth to speak, but Brian's fingers on his lips stopped him.

To his relief, Brian told him firmly, "I'm not going to take this lying down, though, Justin; I'm going to fight those fuckers for all they're worth." He winced. "I suspect after today, too, that they're worth a lot more."

"You mean…?" he whispered in understanding.

Brian nodded. "I have a sneaking suspicion that both men were paid handsomely to get up there and tell their sordid lies; what other motive would they have after all this time?"

"Maybe," Justin said thoughtfully as Brian moved his hands to lightly place them at his waist. "But they sounded so bitter, Brian; sometimes that can be the greatest payback of all." He looked into his husband's eyes that resembled burnt umber, dark brown and fierce in determination. "What exactly _did_ happen with that other man?" he asked softly, wanting to have everything out in the open; this was the first he had ever heard of this other accuser.

Brian's jaw clenched in recollection. "The man _was_ a client of Ryder's; that much was true. He came to the agency for a preliminary meeting so I could pitch our campaign to him and he seemed bored at best. I did suggest that perhaps we could continue our discussion of the merits of my campaign at a baseball game - normally clients are more receptive to new ideas when they're in a more relaxed setting - but again he rebuked my suggestions. Later, though, I ran into him and he told me he _had_ thought of something he would like to do while he was in town – go to Babylon. That was when I realized that Marvin the 'family man' was actually a closet fag."

Justin eyes widened at this disclosure. "He wanted to go to Babylon?"

Brian nodded. "Yeah. He even picked me up in his rental car and drove us there. It was cock night – you know where they take out the ruler and do the measurements?"

Justin nodded with a smile; he and Brian had attended one of those nights and his husband kept being urged to participate himself before the event. Of course, Brian had refused; after all, everyone knew he was well-endowed and he felt he didn't have anything to prove, nor was he the type to make a show of it – at least not in such a flagrant display. It wasn't as if he had to go stand on stage and advertise it anyway – all a curious guy had to do was visit the backroom to see it up close in its glory; at least in the 'good old days.'

"Well, after the contest was over I asked good old Marv if he saw anyone he was interested in; I even volunteered to introduce him to the winner. But again he wasn't interested." For a moment, Brian went back in time; he could still remember standing up on the catwalk, watching the proceedings and the sly smile that had emerged on Telson's face when Brian had asked him who he was interested in. It hadn't really surprised him, though; he had pretty much expected his response. He had no idea at the time, though, how much it would come back to bite him in the ass later.

"You mean he wasn't interested in any of _them_," Justin replied astutely as he gazed up into Brian's face. "He wanted YOU." He knew it was silly, but the thought made him just a little disgusted as well as jealous. Any time another man made an overture toward Brian, no matter who it was, it always made him feel that way.

Brian nodded. "Yeah…He said if I came to his hotel room the next night and 'performed' for him as he so eloquently put it, he would agree to sign with my agency for his advertising, which at the time was in the six-figure range." He shrugged, almost embarrassed now to admit how crazy it all sounded. "I figured what the hell; I'd satisfy his prurient curiosity, let him blow me and I'd be out of there that much richer within the hour."

"So he made up the part about his daughter?"

Brian snorted. "Not quite; he was telling the truth – at least in a way. His clueless wife _did_ call to tell him that his daughter had broken her arm, but he didn't want to leave. He said there wasn't anything he could do to change it and it didn't matter if he left right then or the next morning. As soon as he got off the phone, he figured it was going to be 'business as usual,' but I decided that it was time instead for him to check out, so I called the front desk to oblige him." He curved one side of his mouth up wryly. "Apparently Old Marv didn't like being interrupted just as he was about to sample the goods."

Justin nodded; relieved that that was all there was to it. He had never believed for one moment what the man had said, but hearing that all the old pervert got to do was ogle Brian was oddly reassuring. And knowing that Brian had made the decision to sacrifice a possible lucrative business deal in exchange for a daughter having her father come home to comfort her made him feel very proud of him. He wasn't really all that surprised, though, because Brian had always been a fantastic father to his own child and he could imagine him being empathetic toward another one in need, even if the man was a total asshole and didn't deserve her respect or her love.

Brian misread Justin's silence for doubt as he assured him, "That's all there was to it, Justin – and with that fucker Kip. He came on to ME – both times. I admit I didn't stop him; you know me too well," he said as Justin smirked at him. "I wasn't going to turn him down. But it was consensual – totally consensual. When he ran into me later at the office and at Babylon, though, he kept pressuring me to encourage Ryder to promote him when I knew he wasn't ready. He thought that because we were both queers that was reason enough for him to get ahead, qualifications or not." He snorted. "I straightened him out pretty damn fast on _that _assumption. That's when he got so vindictive and tried to sue me for sexual harassment."

Justin raised his right hand to gently brush away some errant hair from Brian's forehead as his husband told him, "I have no idea how Fin feels right now, but I imagine he's fit to be tied at the moment." He laughed ironically. "I don't think this is going to prove to be a great bonding experience for us."

"You might be surprised," Justin maintained as his hand settled at the back of Brian's neck to idly feather the soft tresses there. "Surely he understands how you might have needed to sow your wild oats back then. I imagine he did a little of that himself, at least in college."

Brian huffed out an amused breath. "Justin – this isn't just _sewing your wild oats_ as you so quaintly put it; let's face it – I had my dick up practically every gay man's ass in Pittsburgh. And now it looks like my father might have to pay for it – that is, if I can't manage to do enough damage control to thwart it. But I'm sure as hell going to try, though; I have a feeling this will be the most important advertising campaign of my fucking life."

Justin stood on his tiptoes to kiss the warm lips reassuringly, placing his hands on Brian's biceps to steady himself. His breath was soft on Brian's skin as he whispered, "You're the perfect man for the job, Brian Kinney. I know you're up for the challenge; you always are."

They pulled back enough so Brian could gaze into the soft, baby-blue eyes of the man he loved so dearly – the man who had risked so much to be with him; the man he wasn't sure even now that he deserved, but he was so thankful that he was there with him by his side. He was going to need Justin's love and support in the next few days, particularly after what had just transpired, and just knowing that he would be there made him feel more confident already.

"I love you, Justin Taylor-Kinney," he breathed out in return as he nuzzled Justin's cheek with his own. "So fucking much."

Justin's eyes glistened with tears over the heartfelt statement as he whispered back, "And I love YOU." They pulled back once more as he said to Brian fervently, "Now let's go find your father and get ready to kick some Republican ass."

* * *

_Same Time_

Fin sat on top of the worn and weathered wooden picnic table, his feet on the seat as Tony sat next to him in companionable silence. They had walked quietly hand in hand around the back of the wooded lot for a short time, stopping at the edge of the lake to silently observe some white swans and Canadian geese gliding smoothly over the glassy, still water. The peacefulness was so welcome after the raucous sounds that had burst forth from the news conference earlier; presently only the rustle of the leaves from the wind and an occasional bird song could be heard as they stood there side by side, watching how the scenery reflected off the surface.

After a few minutes, Fin had squeezed Tony's hand briefly before leading him over to the picnic table as he plopped himself down unceremoniously on top of the surface and sat there, his hands on his knees as he stared out over the water. Tony didn't say a word, knowing Fin would speak when he was ready to.

Finally, he heard Fin say quietly, "You know…When I made my announcement that I was running for governor, this all seemed so simple and straightforward. Well, maybe not simple but at least clear cut. What I needed to do was get out and let the voters get to know me, to know what I stood for, and to see the passion that I have for wanting this wonderful state to heal itself and make itself bolder and brighter for the future. I naively thought that my strong legislative record for championing the rights of the downtrodden and forgotten, and my sincerity to make this world a better place for our children and children's children would be sufficient enough for me to come out victorious. I didn't think it would be easy, necessarily; but at least I thought the voters would listen to me with an open mind and judge me on my merits, not fling slime and sleaze all over my efforts." He sighed heavily as he finally turned to stare into Tony's intense blue eyes with a twisted curve of his lips. "Boy, was I an idiot."

"No, you're not an idiot, Fin O'Connor," Tony promptly chided him as he reached over to grasp Fin's sleeve. "You're exactly who you just said you are; someone who's not been jaded or influenced by lobbyists and who sincerely wants to make a difference in the lives of his constituents. It's not _your_ fault that your opponent doesn't hold himself to the same high standards as you do."

Fin smiled in gratitude for his beautiful, sensitive partner. "You always do know the right thing to say to me, Counselor," he admitted. "You're very persuasive; I guess that's why you're the attorney in the family." His smile faded, however, as he added, "I wish your confidence in me was going to be enough to erase the damage that's been done."

Tony looked into his sorrowful face as he asked softly, "I really didn't get a chance to ask what your reaction was to what those men said. Are you _angry_ at Brian?" He certainly could tell that BRIAN was angry – of course, he had a right to be. He – as well as the rest of them – had been blindsided this morning. He probably felt sorry most of all for Justin, because he could certainly understand how a man could do all sorts of illogical things to protect the man that you loved. God knows he had certainly done his share of just that while he had tried to disguise his and Fin's true relationship for fear it would harm his career. It was ironic, then, that now that their relationship was out in the open, it appeared that his _son's_ lifestyle was about to do the most harm.

Fin sighed as he shook his head. "Right now I'm not sure _how_ I feel. I guess I'm a little disappointed that Brian didn't clue me in on what might be dug up during the campaign about him, but on the other hand it really shouldn't make a difference. Brian isn't the one running for governor; _I_ am. What he did in his younger days shouldn't have a fucking thing to do with whether or not _I'm _capable of running this state. I think that is what _really _makes me angry."

He blew out a pregnant breath as he looked over at their RV, which seemed oddly silent. He wasn't sure how soundproof the vehicle was, but after seeing the look on Brian's face, he had expected to be able to hear his son and Justin really battling it out. He had a feeling that Justin could give as good as he got, though; he didn't doubt that both men would be clearly making their opinions known, but at the moment he couldn't hear a thing.

"I wonder what's going on in there," he mused to Tony as he placed a hand on his partner's knee. "You think they're having a real donnybrook in there? When Brian had figured out what Justin had done, he looked furious."

Tony shrugged. "Hard to tell. All I know is that they definitely needed to clear the air."

Fin nodded as he rubbed his face wearily with his hand. "Shit, Tony; I'm not sure I know how to fix this one."

"But you're not giving up," his partner answered as he placed his hand on his shoulder. "I won't let you." He knew how much this meant to Fin, and despite his own initial reservations, he wasn't about to let his partner stop now. After seeing the extent to which Fin's opponent was willing to go, there was no fucking way.

"No, I'm not," Fin confirmed to him. "I've come too far now and made too much progress to let it all go for nothing. I'm in this for the long haul; this means too much to me." He sighed. "I'm just not sure how to proceed now," he admitted honestly. He gazed into Tony's eyes before giving him a slight smile. "I'm open to suggestions, Counselor."

Tony licked his lips to wet them before replying, "What I suggest is that both you and Brian take a deep breath and step back for just a moment before you rush back in to try and refute what those assholes said. The press – and the public – will be just as interested later today as they would be right now. They're not going anywhere. And if I were them, I'd want to hear the whole story – not just what two desperate wackos have to say. I don't think anyone would expect a rebuttal immediately; if _I_ were the candidate, I would offer a firm denial but also a thoughtful one that explained everything to my satisfaction. I think the people of Pennsylvania are smart enough to tell the difference between a sideshow and the truth. So Brian's not the poster boy for restraint and moderation; he wouldn't be the first one. But on the other hand, I've gotten to know both him and Justin well enough by now to know that those fuckers aren't worth the scum on the bottom of their shoes; I for one want to wait and listen to your son's side of the story. Mark my words, Fin – those men were coached and compensated well for their time. I've seen enough criminal cases where the same thing happened in court to know a setup when I see one and this one has the signs written all over it."

Fin grinned despite the seriousness of their predicament. "Spoken like the impressive, hotshot attorney that you are; emphasis on the _hot_ part."

Tony gazed at him affectionately; that was one of the things he always loved about Fin – his ability to still have a sense of humor even in the worst of situations. That had served him well as a district senator when his committees were hopelessly bogged down along party lines and neither side would budge. Eventually his humor – along with his charm – would normally help to persuade even the most stubborn of colleagues to join his side. He hoped that same charm and humor – as well as his drive and passion for what he believed in – would help him to overcome what would no doubt be the biggest challenge of his fairly young campaign. "Why, thank you for that compliment, Senator," he played along as he smiled back at him. "You're pretty hot yourself." He leaned in to meet Fin's lips with his own for several minutes as they kissed, reaffirming their love for each other as the kiss deepened, both men's arms sliding around to each other's backs in a light caress.

He noticed Fin's smile fading just a bit as they eventually broke off their kiss and he looked behind him to notice Brian and Justin walking over to them from the RV; to his relief, Brian had his arm around Justin's waist as they approached. Tony sighed in relief; that was a very encouraging sign.

He locked gazes on Justin before noticing Brian averting his eyes from his father until he stood only a few feet apart from them. Finally, Brian lifted his face to meet his father's scrutiny. He took a deep breath before saying quietly in partial explanation, "I never expected that."

Fin nodded, not needing an elaboration as to what he was referring to. "I need to know how much of it was true and how much of it was made up. Tony feels they were obviously coached as well as well paid for what they did. That would be the only explanation as to why they would want to get up and make a complete ass of themselves."

"That and revenge," Justin commented tersely. "Some people don't handle rejection well."

Fin watched as Brian silently pulled Justin closer to him, almost in a comforting gesture, and wondered what the significance of that was. "Well, whatever their motives were, they may have done some serious damage to my campaign. The key is to figure out how to minimize it now. Suggestions?"

Brian was surprised by how uncertain he felt at that moment; he wasn't accustomed to not always being the 'take charge' person, but he had never worried about how his father felt about him. Before, he wouldn't have given a rat's ass what Jack Kinney felt. But with Fintan O'Connor as his father, he found that it _did _matter. "Does that mean you still want me to run your campaign?"

Fin stared into his son's eyes, hearing the awkwardness in the normally confident voice. He glanced over at Tony who nodded slightly before he said clearly, "Of course I do. What happened this morning doesn't change anything, other than it makes me even more determined to beat that fucker and kick him to the proverbial curb. After this morning, I know for certain that he doesn't deserve to even clean toilets in the governor's mansion, let alone come out victorious."

Brian was inordinately relived to hear that his father still had confidence in his ability, but he had to ask anyway. "You haven't heard MY version yet, though; how do you know it will differ that much from theirs?"

Fin looked him directly in the eyes and said firmly, "Because I know YOU. I know you're not perfect, Brian; neither am I. But I know you would not force yourself on anyone; hell, you wouldn't need to. And to think you would be interested in that old geezer?" He snorted. "Give me a break! No son of mine would give that man a second look."

Justin giggled as he looked over at Tony, who returned his gaze with a smile of his own.

Brian nodded in satisfaction as he and Justin sat down on the other side of the picnic table.

"Now here is what I want to do," Fin said as he twisted around to face them. "You're going to tell me everything I need to know about those bastards. And then we're going to beat them at their own damn game."

* * *

_A/N: Thanks to Boriqua522 for checking this over for me, my 'eagle eye!"  
_


	21. Reversal of Fortune

_A/N: Thanks for Boriqua522 for checking this over for me; you're awesome, my dear!:) *Hugs*_

* * *

_This Chapter: Brian and his father scramble to counteract Telson's and Thomas's ugly accusations; an enemy must alter his plans to fulfill his goals._

* * *

_One Hour Later_

From his place on the RV's couch, Fin shook his head in disgust as Brian gave his version of the events regarding Telson and Thomas. As he figured, by the time Brian got finished his version of the story nowhere near resembled the distorted, deceitful, and malicious tales that the two other men had spouted earlier at Turner's press conference.

By now he had heard enough about his son's earlier lifestyle to realize that Brian would have never been accused of being a saint when he was younger, but to think his opponent would have stooped to such nonsense merely to be elected filled him with repugnance. What ever happened to concentrating on the issues instead? God forbid if they should focus on _that_ in place of waging a smear campaign; not that he was surprised, though. It wasn't called 'dirty politics for nothing. The only question now, though, was how they were going to combat the damage that had been done? He studied his son sitting nearby on one of the RV's matching, cream-colored leather chairs and couldn't help feeling a twinge of sympathy to accompany the anger he was feeling.

"Well, that was about what I suspected," he told his son. "Motherfucking pieces of shit!" he growled. "I knew Turner might start getting desperate with his numbers going down in the polls, but to resort to this? He thinks _this _is how he will win the election? Well, I've got news for him," he vowed.

His long legs splayed out in front of him, Brian brushed his hand restlessly through his hair in nervous energy as he stared over at Fin; he felt oddly uncomfortable discussing his previous, over-the-top lifestyle with his father, but he knew it was necessary. They were still getting to know each other and he felt a little guilty about dredging up examples of his sexcapades in front of him. If it had been his adopted father, Jack Kinney, he wouldn't have cared one bit about the fallout, and it hadn't been too long ago that he would have been _bragging_ about his exploits; now, however, he averted his eyes from the man who had trusted him to lead his campaign toward victory. Thanks to his cavalier attitude about fucking everything that had two legs and a cock, the lifestyle that he used to relish threatened to blow everything to shit now.

He felt Justin squeeze his shoulder silently from his place on the arm of the chair as he lifted his gaze to meet his husband's. He clasped his hand over Justin's in response, grateful as always for his unwavering support, before he turned to peer over at his father and Tony, who was sitting beside him on the couch. "This is one fucked-up mess, isn't it?" he murmured.

Fin sighed and nodded. "Yeah, I guess you could look at it that way," he said ruefully. His gray eyes darkened, however, as he added, "Well, it doesn't matter; he's made a huge tactical error. If he thinks this is going to make me go cower in a corner somewhere and retreat, he's got a rude surprise in store for him."

Tony grinned knowingly as he reached to clasp Fin's hand from his side on the couch; he would have expected nothing less from his partner. "Trust me, that is not the way to intimidate him," he told Brian and Justin. "One of Fin's favorite expressions is _that which makes me angry makes me stronger_. And he's feeling _particularly_ strong."

"Glad to hear it," Brian told him, silently proud as well as relieved about his father's combative attitude. "So how do you want to handle this? We'll have to respond _somehow_; if we merely keep silent a lot of people will take that as a sign that those two bastards were telling the truth, and I'm not going to let them get away with it...Even if I'm forced to resign from your campaign and fight it on my own. I'm going to straighten those fuckers out - and the voters, too. He will NOT get away with this!"

"Brian..." Justin began in dismay; as worried as he had become for Fin and Brian's safety, after what Turner had done to try and disgrace both Brian as well as his father, the last thing he wanted to do was let them win. They _couldn't _win.

As if he read Justin's mind, Fin's eyes flashed in righteous irritation. "Brian, I told you earlier; you're not going anywhere. I need you for this campaign; I trust you implicitly and I am not going to cut my losses and run just because he thinks he has the upper hand. And furthermore, I resent my son being subjected to such blatant lies and I'm going to enjoy cutting that asshole down a notch or two - along with the slimy scum that are undoubtedly on his payroll. Understood?" He cocked an eyebrow upward in a perfect imitation at the man staring back at him from across the room.

Justin and Tony exchanged a look as they both pursed their lips together in an attempt to keep from laughing; despite the seriousness of the situation, it was hard not to be amused by the mirror looks father and son were giving each other at the moment.

Brian arched one elegant eye brow back at his father. "Yes, Sir," he responded quietly with a curl of his lips. "Completely. So what the fuck do you want to do about it?"

Fin grinned. "That's more like it," he responded as he stood up and stretched his upper body backward to try and remove some of the kinks, his mind lost deep in thought. Tony silently rose from his seat to stand behind him and began to knead his shoulders to try and remove some of the tight, stressful knots as his partner told Brian, "Well, the first thing we need to do is to find a way to refute both of their stories. Were there any witnesses to any part of your encounters with either man that could contradict what they said?"

"Well, I hate to disappoint you," Brian said, "but as much as I got off on being an exhibitionist at the time I didn't exactly have an audience for either event. The incident with Kip; or should I say _incidents, _because we fucked twice, remember - once in the loft and once in my office - were done without anyone else around." He turned to look into Justin's eyes apologetically. If he hadn't felt some ridiculous need to maintain his reputation as a queer version of the Energizer Bunny of Liberty Avenue back then, he could have prevented a lot of this grief now by simply realizing he had had all he would have ever needed with Justin. Now, however, they were stuck with the situation and they would have to deal with the fallout.

"I was there at the loft when Kip showed up and Brian told me he was meeting him for just business," Justin offered helpfully, although he knew deep down that wouldn't be enough. "I was leaving by the steps just as he was arriving on the elevator. That's how I knew what he looked like," he said as he turned to look at Brian in explanation.

In verification of his suspicions, Fin shook his head. "That might establish that he was at Brian's loft, but it wouldn't prove anything. In fact, it might just make things worse if they knew you were there, knowing how you 'persuaded' him to drop the charges later. It would just make it seem even _more_ like a setup then."

Justin peered over at him glumly and nodded. "Yeah, I guess you're right," he conceded. He turned to look at Brian. "What about this Marvin character? No one saw the two of you together or saw him coming on to you?"

"Well, _everybody_ came on to me," he responded simply, "and he didn't exactly _force_ me to come to his hotel room," Brian pointed out.

Justin worried his lower lip as he placed a hand on Brian's knee. "No," he agreed quietly; both were true enough. "But there's got to be a way to prove this he wasn't exactly an innocent party here, either; the way he was talking it sounded like he was happiest-married man in America. I find that extremely hard to believe."

He stared into his husband's handsome face as one corner of his mouth turned up sympathetically; he could tell exactly what Brian was thinking: _If only I had never gone there..._ Justin shook his head slightly as if to tell him it was water under the bridge now and they needed to move ahead before he pressed, "You said he wanted to go to Babylon."

Brian nodded. "Yeah," he snorted. "And here I thought he wanted to go to a steakhouse or something. He was interested in meat, all right; just a different_ kind_ of meat."

"But if you went to Babylon, surely someone saw you there with him?"

"Justin," Brian said to him as he covered his husband's hand with his. "That was _years _ago, Sunshine. Now I admit I can be quite memorable," he added, evoking a slight smile from the blond, "But no one would have given that weasel a second look." He sighed. "No one's going to remember that he was with me _now_, anyway, not after all this time."

"What about Ryder?" Justin pressed. "If Telson was such a big shot tire manufacturer he had to have a big account with him, didn't he? Maybe he would remember something else that might help us now."

Brian shook his head. "At the time all this happened we were trying to GET the account; I only agreed to meet _Marvin the Moron _later when he made my appearance at the hotel a condition of signing on with the agency. He made it quite clear. I put out - and HE would put out; simple as that. Besides, Ryder isn't even around anymore; last I heard he was sunning his backside on some beach in Hawaii somewhere. I haven't talked to him in years now. Even if I _could_ figure out where he was, he never knew about what happened at the hotel; all he knew was that the man ultimately decided not to go with his agency. _I _never told him the real reason why." Somehow he didn't think it would look too good on his part if he told his boss at the time that he had pretty much transformed himself into a male whore simply to land an account, although he assumed that Ryder was secretly aware of the creative ways in which he tried to 'encourage' a potential client to accept them as their advertising vehicle.

"Well, there must be _some_ way to prove that he wasn't the happy little husband he made himself out to be," Tony interjected. "I mean, no offense, Brian - you're attractive and all; but I doubt seriously if Marvin only converted to homosexuality after taking one look at _you_; he had to have had other encounters before then."

Brian had to smile at that statement. "Well, it's possible..." he began facetiously before he sobered over the seriousness of the situation. "Yeah, I'm sure you're right. But my experience also tells me that those kinds of closet queers are good at hiding their tracks, too."

"No doubt," Fin agreed as he nodded his head. "But how would we track them down, anyway? That would require a private investigator and who knows _how_ much time; that's a precious commodity that we don't have a lot of right now. We need to put this fire out before it burns out of control."

He watched as Tony stood up and flipped his phone open. "I think I can help with that," he said mysteriously with a smile as he began to punch in a phone number. Fin frowned in puzzlement as he watched Tony bring his phone up to his ear a few seconds later and say, "Karen? Hi, it's Tony Cassinelli. How _are_ you?"

Tony nodded. "Wow, seems like Kevin was in middle school the last time I talked to you! Is Danny around? Thanks." Tony gazed over at his partner who raised his eyebrows in question. He was about to explain before his party apparently came to the phone and he returned his attention to his call.

"Hey, Danny! How's it going, man?" There was a pause for a few seconds before Tony laughed softly. "I'm that transparent, am I?" he responded. "Has it been that long already?" Again there was a few seconds' pause before Tony continued, "Okay, you got me, then; guilty as charged. I have two of them." Tony chuckled as he said, "Hey, you told me you owed me a BIG favor, remember?" He glanced over at Fin as he said, "Okay, the first one is Marvin Telson. T-E-L-S-O-N," he spelled out as he looked over at Brian for confirmation, who nodded. "The other one is Kip Thomas. Yeah, I know - cutesy little name, isn't it? But trust me, there's nothing cutesy about THIS fucker," he explained to him.

The three other men could hear Tony's friend saying something on the other end before the attorney added, "Yeah, I need the works; any and everything you can dig up on them. Oh, and Danny...sorry about the short notice but I need this need it ASAP; you know I wouldn't ask if it wasn't important."

"No, no, I don't," Tony said after a few moments. "But both names shouldn't be that common, and Telson was - or is, I don't know - owner of Telson Tires. Older man, maybe late 50's, 60's? That should help pin him down. And this Thomas guy should be somewhere around his late 30's, I'd guess? About average height, slender with straight, dark hair; could still be working in advertising, and I think he's from the Pittsburgh area."

Tony felt Fin's arms come up to slide around his waist from behind as he nodded on the phone, finding it a little hard to concentrate as Fin placed his chin on his shoulder and nuzzled his neck. He tilted his head away from his partner while he tried to focus on keeping his hand up to the phone as he nodded. "Yeah, we're definitely even now, my friend," he said with a smile. "I'll be waiting for your call; thanks."

He let out a breath as he flipped the phone shut and explained, "That was Danny Seavers, a P.I. friend of mine," he explained. "Got into a big jam about a year ago when he was caught using an illegal wiretap device on someone. I managed to help him keep his P.I. license and avoid jail time, so he told me if I ever needed any favors from him to look him up. I thought this was the perfect time to take advantage of it."

Fin turned him in his arms to bestow a quick kiss of gratitude on his lips before pulling back. "It certainly pays to have an attorney in the family," he said softly as Tony smiled. He released his partner, Fin's face sobering as he asked, "How fast do you think he can get back to you? I'm not going to be able to hold the wolves at bay for much longer; and something tells me that Kirk's getting drilled big time by the press right about now."

Tony replied curtly, "Well, let Littleton do his job that I'm sure he's being paid outrageously well to do. I imagine he's more than capable of holding them back just a little longer until Danny gets back to me."

Tony turned to face Brian and Justin as he divulged, "He said he'd do a full background check on both of them; that should involve searching for any criminal history, suspicious financial records, credit worthiness, a full social security check and reviewing all local and state databases. He said he should hopefully be able to get back to me within the hour."

"You think that he might turn up something that could indicate they received a payoff of some kind for what they did this morning?" Fin asked his partner.

"Well, I CAN tell you one thing; if there's some money they're trying to hide, Danny will find it. He's the best P.I. I know; and he has some - shall we say - _unique_ ways of finding out information. He employs one of the best computer hackers I've ever seen. If they're trying to hide money they've received lately, trust me, he'll find it."

Brian nodded from his place next to Justin. "I think we should wait until he calls back with a report before we meet with the rest of your staff, then," Brian told his father, who nodded in agreement. "We won't know how to combat the damage until we know what sort of ammunition we'll have."

"I agree," Fin replied. "There's no point in holding a strategy meeting until we find out what he's learned. I'm going to call Kirk and let him know there's going to be a small delay."

Brian nodded as he peered down to check the time on his Rolex. "It's close to opening time here; we're going to have to move soon. I think under the circumstances we should head on over to our next destination. And I suggest we hold the staff meeting by Skype to avoid running into the press until Tony's P.I. friend gets back to him." He let out a weighted breath. "Let's just hope he manages to come up with something to prove that I didn't do what they claim I did."

"Well, if he does it will certainly go a long way toward destroying their credibility," Fin replied. "But even if he doesn't, it's still going to come down to their word against yours," he pointed out. He smiled over at his son. "And you can be quite persuasive when you need to be," he said confidently. "My bet's on you."

To his surprise, Brian felt a lump form in his throat. He wasn't used to such support from his father; well, at least not from the man he _used_ to think was his father. He wasn't accustomed to actually having someone believe in him like that - at least someone other than Justin. A little awkwardly, he replied, "Well, I haven't exactly led a stellar life; it wouldn't be hard to believe all of that really happened."

"Bullshit," Justin growled next to him. "No matter _what_ sort of life you led before, you would have never done anything as heinous as what they are accusing you of now. You certainly never had to force yourself on _anyone_."

Brian curled his lips under. "Well, _you_ were certainly willing enough," he pointed out.

Instead of the teasing rejoinder Brian expected, Justin's eyes flashed in irritation instead. "Brian, I'm trying to be _serious_ here! You need to fight this, to tell everyone that it's totally absurd. _I'll_ tell them if YOU won't," he vowed.

Brian pulled Justin to his feet. "My little bodyguard," he murmured as Justin glared up at him; he wasn't sure if his vehement reaction was due to the word _little _or his husband's fear that he would give up. He took hold of Justin's upper arms as in all seriousness now he replied, "You know me better than that, Sunshine; I have no intention of letting them win." He leaned in until their foreheads were touching as he whispered, "But I know whatever happens, you won't be going anywhere either." He pulled back enough to place a short kiss on Justin's lips before he turned to his father. "I'd like to sit in on your conversation with Kirk before we leave," he told him. "I don't want him taking it upon himself to put words in my mouth, especially until we know what this friend of Tony's can dig up." Fin nodded as Brian looked over at Tony. "Let's hope your faith in your friend's abilities is well-founded."

"Yeah, me, too," Tony told him. He let out a breath before telling them, "Justin and I can fix some breakfast while you make your call if you want." Justin nodded in agreement.

"Sounds good," Fin told him softly as he gave him a kiss on the cheek. "But better make it something quick; I don't think we'll be sticking around here too much longer." Tony nodded as Fin motioned to his son with his hand to follow him.

"Brian," he said as he flipped open his cellphone and walked toward the back of the RV. Brian took a moment to lightly brush his hand against Justin's cheek and give him an encouraging look before he followed his father down the hallway.

* * *

Justin sighed as he walked over to Tony and plopped down in one of the kitchen chairs. "What a fucking mess!" he stated. "I found out when Stockwell ran for mayor how dirty politics could be, but this is even more than _I_ could have imagined."

Tony nodded. "Yeah, me, too." He sat down next to Justin as he asked, "You really went home with that sleaze ball?" When Justin nodded, he asked, "Weren't you scared? You were only seventeen then."

Justin nodded. "Yeah...Seventeen and young enough to be reckless and just a little stupid when it came to personal safety," he told him with a small shrug. "All I knew was that Brian needed help and no one seemed to be offering him any."

Tony walked over to open the fridge and take out a carton of eggs and turkey bacon to place it down on the counter. "Wow. You must have really been in love with Brian practically from the start, then, to do that for him."

Justin retrieved a loaf of wheat bread from the mini pantry next to the stove and turned to face his friend with a smile of recollection. "Yeah, I was. I don't think anyone back then believed that a teenager could know what love was, but I proved them wrong. And to answer your _other _question, hell, yeah, I was scared. But you know what? My need to help Brian, along with my feeling that Kip Thomas was just a spineless, conceited piece of shit with an overly high opinion of himself convinced me to do it anyway. And I was right about him; he _is_ a worthless piece of trash only concerned with himself and what he can get without working for it. That always _was_ the difference between him and Brian, though. Brian has had to work his ass off to get where he is; Kip Thomas thought he could get all those privileges merely by latching onto others who he thought he could use to get ahead. And he's _still_ doing it. Slimy, good-for-nothing bastard," he spat out. "Just the thought of him touching me makes me almost sick to my stomach even now."

Thinking once more about how brave Justin had consistently been all of his young life, as well as admiring his young friend's willingness to risk everything for his husband when no one else would, Tony replied, "Well, I got a good look at him up there." He broke several of the eggs into a medium-sized bowl to prepare them for an omelet. "He's one hell of an actor; trust me, I've seen my share of good and bad performers on the witness stand, and he wins the Oscar hands down."

"You're not saying you actually _believe _he was telling the truth?" Justin responded incredulously.

"Hell, of _course _not!" Tony promptly assured him as he clamped one hand on Justin's shoulder. "Even with his acting skills, I could see right through him. When people are being evasive, they give off certain body language that nails them every time. To the untrained eye of John Q. Public, he might appear to be the innocent, maligned, defenseless party; to _me_, though, he was obviously lying through his teeth. His inability to look people in the eye as he spoke, the arms hugging his body as if he were closing himself off to questions, the slight shifting of his feet from side to side. No, my friend, I have no doubt he is exactly as you describe him," he told him. "But that doesn't mean we won't need some strong counteroffensive to deflect the damage he's done - in addition to what Telson said. That's where I hope Danny comes through for us."

Justin sighed. "You and me both."

* * *

_One Hour Later - Turner's Corporate Headquarters - Owner's Office Suite_

Underwood smiled broadly in recollection of the two men who had turned in consummate acting performances earlier at the press conference. "Brilliant," he said, not only referring to the two men's appearances at the podium, but also Stockwell's idea to pay them handsomely in exchange for them telling their tainted stories; the aftermath had created a maelstrom in the press. Despite his earlier doubts, he had to hand it to Stockwell. The story of how Fintan O'Connor's son had pushed his sexual advances on two 'innocent,' hard-working men was already all over every media website and talk show around the state, as well as some of the national news outlets. And everyone was commenting on how O'Connor had failed so far to issue any sort of rebuttal, which made their stories seem all the more plausible - and the man's son all the more guilty.

"Don't underestimate O'Connor," Turner warned him abruptly from his place behind his massive, oak desk. "He's not stupid; there's got to be a reason why he hasn't said anything yet." He had to admit - the men _had_ appeared to cause some major damage to O'Connor's campaign from what he had picked up so far, but only an hour had passed since the event. The eerie quiet and 'no comments' reverberating from the O'Connor camp so far did little to dissuade him that the man wouldn't be fighting back - and with a vengeance.

Underwood snorted from his place on the couch, his teeth clenched around a nasty cigar stub as he held a glass of whiskey in his hand. "Give me a break," he muttered. "He's got his tail between his fucking legs as we speak." He smirked. "He should be used to having something between his legs by now anyway, so it shouldn't be a new feeling for him. Fucking pervert," he muttered between his lips. Underwood had no particular love for queers; that was part of the reason why he had agreed to undertake Turner's campaign even though he still felt the man lacked the balls to come out victorious. He saw him more as the lesser of two evils. Hopefully after today, however, it wouldn't matter how inept the man was; he would still look more preferable to a man whose son was being deemed a virtual sexual predator. "He's going down, all right; just you watch."

But Turner wasn't convinced. He eyed the other man warily, smelling the foul stench of the man's cigar even from the other side of his spacious suite. "What _about _Telson and Thomas? You took care of them?"

Underwood glared over at him in insult. "What kind of idiot do you think I _am?_" he snarled. "Of _course_ I took care of them! They're already at the airport, taken there by one of your own trucks. I'm sure the press was expecting them to be whisked away by limo, which is exactly what I let them believe when I had your personal vehicle leave immediately after the press conference. The press is tailing it as we speak; they're going to be mighty disappointed, though, when they find out it's just the chauffeur picking up some breakfast on the other part of town," he said with a smug-looking smile. "By the time they figure out no one else is in the car, Telson and Thomas will be on their way to a nice little vacation in the Bahamas - with a warning to keep their big fat mouths shut until the election is over - or until O'Connor bows out of the campaign. If he knows what's good for him he'll just give it up now and be done with it. He's never going to be able to squirm out of _this_ mess, believe me."

"But it wasn't _him_ that did those things," Turner couldn't help pointing out. "It was his son. There's nothing to prevent Kinney from just resigning as manager and O'Connor continuing on with his campaign without him."

Underwood shook his head in disgust; the man really WAS dense. "Who has the most experience here, Turner? I've been in politics for two DECADES! You've never held a political office in your _life_!" He fumed in exasperation as Turner's face turned red from anger. "Just leave the operations of the campaign to me, understand? Unless you want to fall flat on your fucking face!"

"Listen, Underwood!" Turner snarled, finding the courage to reply. "I don't appreciate your attitude OR your tone of voice! I'M the candidate here!"

Underwood harrumphed. "Only because the party pundits _wanted_ you as the candidate," he told him brusquely. "Without _their _backing, you'd be nothing." Turner's face reddened even more in disdain as Underwood told him, "I know you want this, Turner; you can taste it, can't you?" he asked with a knowing sneer on his face. "It's written all over your face. You wouldn't be in this deep if you didn't. Heading up your company no longer gives you the notoriety and satisfaction that you crave; you want the attention, the power that being governor would give you, not to mention all the political clout and the influence."

He continued, "Even if you _wanted_ to, it's too late for you to back out now; not if you want to keep your precious transportation company and your reputation. By the time they got done with you, you'd be in so deep you'd be lucky to keep both your company AND your freedom."

Turner stood up, his white-knuckled hands gripping the edge of the desk. "What do you mean?" he demanded.

"Come _on_, Turner! You know how Telson and Thomas were paid; your company's funds are so intermingled with the party bosses you'll never be able to squirm out of the backlash. You're either going to have to grow some balls and a spine, or resign yourself to spending several years in a jail cell, penniless and destroyed. Do I make myself clear?" He couldn't believe this insufferable man; why in the hell had the party bigwigs chosen _this_ joker as their 'best' candidate? Perhaps it _wouldn't_ have mattered what Kinney had done if he hadn't been here to spearhead this man's campaign; by himself Turner would have fucked it up for sure.

Turner gritted his teeth. "Crystal," he growled out before he took a deep breath and wearily sat back down; the small color television suspended from a corner of the room was softly broadcasting yet another feature about the press conference held a short while ago. The crawling ticker at the bottom of the page left no doubt that everyone was waiting with great anticipation for O'Connor's camp to respond to the serious allegations that had been presented. The only question was: when was that going to happen? He knew the man couldn't afford to just ignore it; so what was he waiting for?

All this stress lately was making his blood pressure shoot straight up; and as much as he hated to admit it, Underwood was right. He DID want to win this election badly. This was not the way he had anticipated winning over the voters of Pennsylvania, however. Could he stand several months of this dirty warfare in the meantime? As he glared over at the other man, however, he already knew that answer. The man was right; he was in way too deep, both emotionally as well as financially, to back out now. And why should he? They had the upper hand now, not O'Connor...Didn't they? The only real question to him was whether he could stand the arrogant man who was managing his campaign until it was over.

"What now?" he asked in resignation, feeling totally spent despite the apparent upper hand they were enjoying at the moment.

Underwood eyed him from across the room as he finally removed what was left of his cigar and stubbed it out in a silver ceramic ashtray made to resemble a hubcap, smirking at the kitschy knick knack. He spoke to the other man as if he were a recalcitrant child as he advised, "We wait to see if O'Connor responds to the charges today; if he doesn't, we dangle your name out in front of the radio talk personalities and provide them with the opportunity to invite you to come on the air to keep hammering about how perverse Kinney is. Of course, you won't say it's because you find his lifestyle personally repugnant; you will concentrate merely on him forcing himself on others and being a sexual predator. You will come across as the righteous but open-minded candidate that we need for you to be. That way you won't alienate the few gays that actually have the intelligence to vote for _you _instead of O'Connor."

"But doesn't he have to be given the same opportunity to speak that I'm being given?" he pointed out.

"I'm impressed, Turner; you _have _done some of your homework," Underwood replied sarcastically as he took a large gulp of his whiskey, savoring the burn as it went down his throat. "Yeah, he'll have to be offered the chance to speak; but if YOU were the current focus of a scandal involving your son and had no way to refute it, would _you_ want to risk the additional exposure?"

Turner sighed heavily at the man's know-it-all attitude; the man was the most intolerable person he had ever had the displeasure of meeting. "Well, I can't read his mind," he told the other man curtly. "Maybe he would think he had nothing to lose instead."

Underwood shrugged. "Let him show up, then; we'll chop him down to pieces and spit him out before he can so much as utter a denial of the allegations." He stood up and turned to face the television playing quietly in the corner, noticing with satisfaction that Kinney's face was plastered prominently on the right side of the screen and his father's was on the left. He smirked as he read the glaring headline written across the bottom of the screen that said _Ugly sexual allegations arise in O'Connor camp. _"I'm going to call Stewart to see if he's heard how O'Connor's planning on responding," he told Turner. "That should tell us something before I start contacting the media outlets."

Turner nodded mutely as Underwood punched in the number, silently hoping that the arrogant man knew what he was doing - and that he would eventually come out victorious as the man believed he would.

* * *

_Same Time - Fin's RV - Allentown, PA_

Fin sat restlessly on the couch, one leg crossed over the other; Tony had one hand on his knee in silent companionship as they waited anxiously for word back from Seavers.

"I can call him to check on his progress if you want," Tony offered softly as he looked over at Fin's face; by now he knew that look. Fin was trying his damndest not to let his anxiety or nervousness show, but Tony knew his partner was worried. It was obvious to him by the stiff way Fin was sitting and the slight furrowing of his brow. Anything he could do to assuage that concern, then, was of the utmost importance to him.

As if he were coming out of a trance, Fin turned his head to stare over into his beautiful partner's face; his expression softened into a tender smile as he shook his head. "I'm that easy to see through?" he murmured as Tony smiled back at him.

"Only to me," he whispered as he leaned toward Fin and their lips came together for a brief kiss. As he pulled back, Fin shook his head.

"No, he said he'd get back to you in an hour and it's just now getting to that point. And I know YOU - if someone makes a promise and doesn't follow through with it, you're on them like flypaper. Let's give him a few more minutes before I sic my partner the bulldog on him."

One side of Tony's mouth twisted upward into a grin. "Okay, five more minutes," he said. "What can we do to pass the time in the interim?"

His desired hope was quickly understood as he noticed his partner's body relaxing a little; Fin placed his leg back down onto the ground and pulled him into his arms. "I think we can think of something," he whispered as they began to kiss anew.

Seated in front of a small desk built into the far wall of their RV's bedroom, Brian stared at the laptop's screen intently; he felt Justin's arms slide around his neck from behind and then down his chest as he placed his head in the crook of Brian's neck and shoulder. "Having any luck?" he whispered as he gave Brian a quick kiss on his cheek.

Brian reached back to place his hand around the curve of Justin's face as he nodded slightly. "Well...it's pretty dry stuff as you might imagine and I'll have to get Tony to verify that I'm interpreting it correctly, but it appears to be pretty much what I thought; any contributions over $500 - and any expenditure over that amount, too - have to be reported within 24 hours to the election supervisor." He leaned backward to stretch out his upper back as he added, "Neither one of those fuckers would have done what they did out of a sense of citizenship or for a measly 500 bucks. _Hell_, no." He closed his laptop shut and twisted around to stand up and face Justin as he said, "No, both of them wouldn't have done what they without being compensated well. I only hope Turner doesn't turn out to be too adept at hiding his tracks and this P.I. is as good as Tony _thinks_ he is."

Justin nodded at him as Brian slid his arms around his back and added, "In either case, we're going to have to address what happened this morning at least before the day is over; we can't just ignore it. Obviously I don't want to do that until we have as much background information as possible."

Justin peered thoughtfully into Brian's eyes. "You know that I'm perfectly willing to..."

"No," was the prompt and firm reply. "You're not getting up there and being grilled by the media," Brian told him. "No fucking way."

Justin opened his mouth to protest, but was stymied by Brian placing his hand gently over his lips. "It would still be your word against his," he pointed out. "And while you would no doubt come across as sincere, as much as I fucking hate to say it, so did he." He gazed down into the blue eyes, a tender smile ghosting over his lips. "Let's see what the P.I. comes up with; hopefully that will make your offer unnecessary. Either way, I'm not putting you through that, Justin." He knew that despite the progress his husband had made with feeling more comfortable in large crowds, there were still residual effects from what he had gone through as a result of the assault and the aftermath; he wasn't about to cause Justin unneeded discomfort in front of a bunch of media jackals for the sake of saving his own ass. His voice softened as he added, "But I love you for offering, anyway."

Justin nodded as Brian removed his fingers and twined their hands together. "I love you, too," Justin whispered before the two men came together for a slow, passionate kiss. They were interrupted several seconds later by Fin calling them from the front of the RV.

"Brian? Justin? Come out here; Danny's calling back with the results."

Brian leaned down to quickly kiss Justin's lips one more time before he responded. "We're on our way."

As they walked into the living room area, they could hear Tony speaking to Danny on the other end of the phone. "Danny, I've got Fin, his son, Brian Kinney, and Brian's husband, Justin Taylor here with me now."

"Good," they heard a deep, baritone voice say over the speaker of Tony's cellphone now sitting in the middle of the coffee table. "You might want to get a pad of paper and a pen; this is pretty extensive; that's why I couldn't get back to you any quicker."

Tony exchanged a hopeful look with Fin before he nodded. "Hold on a second," he told the P.I. as he walked over to the kitchen table to grab a yellow legal pad and a pen. Returning to the couch, he joined Fin as Brian and Justin sat down in matching chairs set perpendicular to the couch.

"Okay, Danny, I'm ready," Tony told him. "What have you got? I hope it's good news."

"Well, let's start with our buddy Marvin," Danny started out. The four men could hear what sounded like papers rustling as the Seavers rattled off, "Marvin Edward Telson; 58 years old last month. Has two children: a son, Rodney, 38, who's an accountant and a younger daughter, Cassie, who's 20 and in college at Baylor. Was divorced from his wife, Elizabeth, or Betsy as she is known apparently, two years ago and she now lives in Santa Barbara, California in a nine-million-dollar mansion, no doubt obtained through her divorce decree. Part of the settlement also stipulated that her husband had to sell his business and divide the proceeds between the two of them as part of the divorce. He also was directed to pay her $10,000 a month in alimony."

Tony rapidly wrote down everything Danny was telling him, raising his eyebrows at the cost of Telson's ex-wife's alimony, as well as the exorbitant cost of her residence; he thought his and Fin's home was opulent and it was merely valued at a million. "Wow," he said softly with a whistle. "So he doesn't own the business any longer as of two years ago. That answers one of our questions. Did you find out who bought him out?"

"Yeah," Danny said. "That's where it gets interesting. An LLC that goes by the name of Quality Tires, Inc. is listed as the owner. Turns out that Quality Tires, Inc. is owned by a conglomerate based out of the Channel Islands of all places. There's a P.O. Box in the States strictly to collect payments for goods and services, but the actual corporation that owns it is based overseas. The funds get deposited into an account through the Bank of England. I had a hell of a time tracking that _one_ down," he muttered. "That's where Picker came in handy."

Fin, Brian, and Justin all frowned at that statement as Tony whispered, "His hacker," in explanation. "So where did it all end up?" he asked curiously.

"Well, that's the best part," Danny told him. "I have a feeling Telson's wife's lawyers didn't do a very good job of representing her, because when Picker finally tracked it down, turns out Telson still owns it under the LLC; he merely sold it to himself under cover."

Fin grinned. "Conniving little fucker, isn't he?" he responded dryly, pleased to hear that Telson was crooked as a dog's hind leg. "How convenient."

"Yeah," Danny replied. "He was very creative, all right, but it didn't do him much good financially. Seems Telson's business has been drowning in debt big time for the past two years since the divorce decree; according to the financial statements I reviewed his net worth is practically down to nothing. I'm sure having to pay his ex-wife's alimony isn't sitting too well with him at the moment. Here's where it gets _really _interesting, though; there was a deposit made to his overseas account two days ago, but I have a feeling that it wasn't due to selling a lot of rubber. A payment of twenty _thousand _dollars - and that's American dollars, gentlemen."

"Holy shit," Justin murmured from his place next to Brian as they looked at each other in surprise.

"You said two days ago?" Tony asked as his hand flew over the paper while he tried furiously to write everything down that his friend was telling him.

"Yep," Danny said. "Oh, it gets even better, Tony. Want to guess which account the payment came from? Don't feel bad it if doesn't ring a bell. It was from a U.S. account here in the Wilkes-Barre area under the name of Alfred Kleemeyer."

Tony frowned. "You're right; I _don't_ recognize that name, Danny; should I?"

The men could hear the man chuckling softly. "Not unless you used to work at Turner Logistics. Seems that Kleemeyer used to be the comptroller at Turner's company back in the late 1990's until he retired several years ago and moved to South Carolina."

Fin started. "Wait - did you say this man used to be Turner's _comptroller_ at his company?" He turned to peer over at Brian, who raised his eyebrows in response.

"You got it," Danny told them flatly. "Now I wonder why this man would be sending Telson a deposit for $20,000? That's a hell of a lot of Michelins."

"Fuck," Brian exclaimed under his breath. "How stupid can you get? Did he really think he was going to be able to hide that fact?"

"Actually, he did a pretty damn good job of hiding it in Telson's account; if Picker hadn't found it, I don't think it would have been detected. He's the best at what he does, trust me, and even _he _had to use every trick in his book to track that one down - and to make the connection to Turner."

Fin shook his head in disgust. "Unbelievable; but why should I be surprised?" he mused. "As they always say, politics makes strange bedfellows. But I still don't understand how Telson and Turner even knew each other. How would he have even known about the man?"

"Maybe I can answer that one," Brian supplied. "My guess is that Telson was holding a grudge for what I did - or didn't do - and made contact with HIM, not the other way around," Brian told his father. "That's the only thing that makes sense to me."

"But that was _years_ ago, Brian!" Justin told him in disbelief. "Isn't that going way too far?"

"Well, I _do_ tend to be unforgettable," Brian teased as Justin shook his head and rolled his eyes at him. He sobered as he shrugged. "Some people have a hard time accepting rejection," he offered by way of explanation as he gazed into his husband's eyes. Justin's eyes locked with him, both knowing Brian wasn't talking about Telson at the moment. Thank God he had managed to break through Brian's rejection of HIM. But to go to this extent just to get back at his husband? It sounded so preposterous; was it possible?

"Any other info, Danny?" Tony asked as they turned their attention back to the phone call. "Although I think that will likely nail the guy - and Turner - with that information alone."

"Well, I'd say at the very least Telson - and Turner - have some major explaining to do about that little disclosure," Fin agreed. "Although I suppose he could always pretend he didn't know what his former employee was doing on his behalf. What about this other idiot? Kip Thomas?"

There was a small laugh on the other end of the phone. "Now, that one has led quite a colorful life," they heard the P.I. say. "Much more so than Telson. Christopher Kipling Thomas," Danny recited. "Age 39; born in Chicago; moved to Pittsburgh in the mid-90's after being terminated by an advertising agency there by the name of Orbit Enterprises."

"I've heard of that agency," Brian remarked in surprise as he recalled meeting one of their ad executives at a regional awards dinner. "Very prestigious, well-established company. I never knew he used to work for them," he stated. As far as he knew, Ryder's company was the first advertising job that Thomas had ever had, not that he had ever really investigated Kip's background himself; he had been too busy fucking the guy and then blowing him off (and not in a good way) when the man wouldn't go away and became too demanding afterward. He frowned as the rest of the P.I.'s words sunk in. "You said he was terminated? Do you know why?"

"Insubordination," was the terse, one-word reply.

"That could be anything," Brian countered, well aware as a business owner how broad a term that could be. "Any idea exactly what _sort_ of insubordination?"

"Well, from the document Picker found, apparently Mr. Thomas got caught trying to take credit for someone else's advertising campaign idea and was outed when the real creator came forward with proof that it had been his idea all along. Thomas even got a promotion out of it initially until his true colors were detected; then he was promptly dismissed."

"Shit," Brian muttered. "That doesn't surprise me in the least; I bet Ryder didn't have any clue about that; normally when HR calls for references you only get their employment dates and position held. Most companies are too fucking scared about litigation to say anything else."

"Exactly," Danny told him. "You can't believe how many times I've run into that proverbial brick wall when I've been asked to do an employment check on a potential applicant. That's where my hacker comes in handy," he said a little smugly. "And he and I get well paid for it, too; saves the potential employer a lot of money and grief down the road."

"I can imagine," Tony mused. "How about any court records on him, Danny?"

"Well, he's had a multitude of speeding and parking tickets to the point where he's about to have his license suspended if he picks up so much as one more infraction," Seavers replied. "But there's more; seems our little Mr. Thomas is a regular at the courthouse filing lawsuits; he's filed a total of 10 grievances for everything from what he claims are illegal rent increases to car repair issues to dry cleaning complaints. Oh, and he _tried _to file a lawsuit against Orbit Enterprises, claiming he was fired erroneously; I'm sorry to say they folded under the pressure and actually settled with the fucker for $50,000 rather than go to court."

"What a crock of shit!" Brian growled in disgust. "Well, he didn't get a penny out of _me_." He turned to look at Justin who returned his grateful expression with a smile of his own; he realized his husband knew he was silently thanking him for saving his ass. "Is he working at an ad agency now?" he asked curiously, silently vowing that if he was he would notify the asshole's employer immediately to warn them that they had a snake in their midst; at the moment he didn't care _what _it might cost him.

"No," Danny told them. "Get this; he's been on workers' compensation for the past two years; they've declared him totally disabled due to an 'accident' he sustained while running an errand for the last ad agency he worked for in Philadelphia; seems he was on his way to pick up some advertising materials at a printer on the other side of town there when he was struck by a Metro bus. Not only did he wind up filing a worker's comp case against his last employer - Donaldson, Inc. - but he also sued the city of Philadelphia for reckless endangerment and punitive damages. Fucker not only was awarded total disability through worker's comp but he _also _settled with the city of Philadelphia for a cool $100,000. He must be one hell of an actor."

"Fuck," Justin said in disbelief. "One hundred _thousand_ dollars? Why would he even _need_ to take a bribe from Turner, then?"

"Well, it seems that your buddy Kip has very expensive tastes," Danny told him. "According to his checking account, he's already run through the hundred thousand and is now existing solely on the $1200 he gets each month from workers' comp. After having caviar tastes, I guess it's hard to get used to tuna again."

"Danny, it's Fin O'Connor," Fin said from his place next to Tony. "That's certainly some good fodder we can use at our own press conference to destroy both their credibility and truthfulness," he said. "But you just mentioned Thomas's checking account; what about any hint of impropriety with _him_? Did your hacker uncover anything that might tie him directly to Turner's campaign, too?" As much as he was ecstatic over the confirmation that both men were not to be trusted, he wanted to nail Turner's ass to the floor for what he had done to his son.

There was a snorting sound like a harrumph that came from the other end of the phone as Danny responded, "Well, Kip Thomas' financial dealings weren't nearly as hard to track down as Telson's; he still has a checking account at the First National Bank of Philadelphia; that's how Picker knew about his settlement with the city and how he's hurting for money now. I'm sure it's just a big coincidence that Thomas, too, had $20,000 deposited suddenly into his checking account two days ago, just like Telson. And guess where it came from?" he said, the smugness obvious in the tone of his voice.

"Alfred Kleemeyer," Tony responded with a grin.

"Bingo," Danny told him with a laugh. "Good thing Turner's a first-time candidate; he hasn't learned the fine art of bribing people under the table yet. _I _could have probably found THAT one myself; not so sure about the one for Telson, though; that's what I pay Picker to do."

"Holy shit," Fin replied as he shook his head in amazement. "I can't believe this; someone in his camp must have been influenced him to do what he did. I always heard he was a very smart businessman."

"Well, he wasn't THAT smart," Justin couldn't help retorting. "He did business with my asshole of a father, didn't he?" He closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath before opening them again. "Sorry, couldn't help it," he murmured as the three other men looked over at him sympathetically. Fin and Tony had been told the basic story of his falling out with his father; Brian, of course, knew about it intimately. Anything that reminded him even remotely of his father, though, still filled him with a combination of both anger as well as sadness. Why did virtually everything have to remind him of HIM, anyway? He sighed in frustration as he felt Brian's hand on his shoulder; he turned to stare into his eyes and shook his head slightly as if to say it wasn't worth their time or consideration. He turned his attention back to Tony as his friend asked, "Anything else, Danny?"

"That's about it, Tony, at least for now. If I find out anything else, I'll give you a call. I'll email you the full report I have so far, but obviously you need to keep this on the QT."

"Don't worry; as far as we know you're just a concerned citizen reporting what you discovered. I know the drill; I'm sure Picker's got a way to erase his ISP address so the information can't be traced anyway."

"You got it, my friend. I'm emailing you the info now. And Senator - Good Luck. I hope you nail that fucker and his cronies."

Fin smiled. "Don't worry, Danny. I'm planning on doing just that."

"Thanks again," Tony told his friend. "I think I owe YOU one now."

"No sweat," Danny replied. "But the next time I need to do some 'creative' surveillance, make sure your phone's turned on just in case. See ya," he replied as the connection was broken.

"Bye, Danny," Tony replied with a chuckle as he reached to disconnect the call.

The room was silent as the four of them digested what they had just heard. Finally, Fin spoke up quietly, "Well, that was quite enlightening to say the least."

Tony shook his head in disbelief. "Doesn't Turner realize he could be convicted of perjury if he failed to report his expenditures to the election supervisor? And that doesn't even get into the issue of bribery; if he's proven guilty of THOSE charges, he could be sent to prison for up to seven years and be fined as much as $15,000. How stupid could he be?"

"Apparently pretty fucking stupid," Brian commented. "After all, he got involved with the twin twits; that should tell you all you need to know."

Justin sighed in relief. "Well, at least we can fight back now. By the time you and Fin get done, he'll be lucky to get out of this without doing some serious jail time." He looked over at Brian's pensive-looking face; for someone who had just been given a way to be vindicated, his husband didn't appear too happy. "What's wrong?" he asked softly. "You should be thrilled that we can take him down now."

"Yeah, Brian," Fin told him, puzzled at his son's lack of enthusiasm. "He'll probably be forced to withdraw from the race now - after I insist on a retraction. Why don't you seem happy about that?"

"I'm relieved that we have the necessary information to reveal Turner's culpability in this whole situation," he told them. "But something is still gnawing at me; honestly I don't think the man's smart enough, even with his staff, to pull this off on his own. You heard what the P.I. said; this was a pretty sophisticated plan, and Turner's never been involved with politics before. That was supposed to be one of his 'charms,' remember?" he reminded them, his voice tinged with disdain over the use of the word _charms_; there was nothing 'charming' about corruption in his opinion. "No, I think there's someone else involved with this. I'm afraid that once we expose Turner's manipulations, though, the man culprit is going to slink back under the rock he crawled out from under and we'll still have to somehow deal with him later."

"Not if Turner has to withdraw," Fin contended. "Brian, I honestly don't see any way that he can stay in the race now; he's made a major blunder here - and a complete fool out of himself for parading those two fuckers in front of the press."

"Maybe," Brian said, his tone of voice leaving no doubt that he still wasn't convinced there was more at stake here than they knew. He sighed. "Well, if that _does_ happen, we'll just have to face it when it comes." He turned to his father to say, "At any rate I think it's time to formulate our battle plan with the rest of your staff and return a few pointed volleys of our own at the other camp."

Fin nodded with a grin. "I agree; this is one 'battle' I'm going to enjoy participating in immensely. I'll give Kirk a call and tell him to meet us at the rear of the Allentown Civic Center's parking lot in thirty minutes. He told me the security guards there have assured him that we will have secured access to that part of the parking facilities and that no press will be given authority to enter. We should be able to meet in complete privacy there."

Brian nodded. "Good." He stood up and pretended to be looking for something.

"What is it?" Justin asked him as he stood up to join him.

"I was looking for my chauffeur hat," he said, curling his lips under.

Justin grinned, taking solace that his husband could joke a little now that they had what seemed to be more-than-sufficient information to bring Turner's campaign to a sullied end; at least he hoped so. Anyone who would resort to such underhanded tactics in an effort to win a political office had no business being governor. "I dropped your hat off at the tailors," he told him as he played along. "For some reason it seemed to be getting too small for your head."

Brian slid behind the wheel of the RV as he countered, "You never complained about how big my head was _before_; in fact, I think you rather enjoyed it."

Justin slid his arms around Brian's neck as he whispered in his ear, "I still do, and I'll even prove it to you later. Now let's get this bus moving, _Driver_. We have some trash to take out."

Brian grinned. "I like the way you think, Mr. Taylor-Kinney," he replied. He started up the RV as Justin gave him a quick kiss on the cheek before releasing him to slide in next to him in the other seat.

From their place on the couch, Fin and Tony watched the other couple in wistful amusement. Tony couldn't help feeling his heart constrict just a bit at the mention of Justin's married name; once more he thought silently how wonderful it would one day be if he was referred to as Tony Cassinelli-_O'Connor_. He really liked the sound of that; whether that would ever happen, though, was open to debate. He turned his head as he felt Fin reach for his hand and clasp it, giving his partner a reassuring smile.

Fin had noticed the slight look of distress that appeared on his lover's face before he had smiled at him. "What?" he asked softly in concern as he tilted his head to peer into the blue eyes.

Tony shook his head slightly in response. "Nothing," he murmured reassuringly. "Just thinking about the work I'll have to catch up on when I get back." He had no idea why he felt he needed to evade the issue; he and Fin normally prided themselves on being upfront with each other about everything. In _this _case, though, he didn't feel now was the time to broach the topic. Even though they had been together for over a decade now, Fin had only recently come clean about the true nature of their relationship. He didn't need the added pressure from him about whether or not their partnership would eventually lead to marriage, especially not now. There would be time later to talk seriously about it; but for the moment, he rather cowardly decided to mask the true nature of his concern behind his work responsibilities.

To his relief, Fin accepted his explanation with a smile. "You're always too conscientious, my love. Knowing you, I'm sure you will have things well in hand in short order once you get back. You know you could bail out now, by the way, if you want; I would certainly understand, and I'm sure Brian and Justin would, too."

Tony smiled at him affectionately. "No," he whispered softly. "I want to be there when you bring those lying assholes down. And just because Turner might bail out, I'm sure the GOP will be scurrying to find a replacement right away; they're not about to let you run unopposed, no matter _how _much Turner fucked up."

As the RV began to slowly pull out of the dealer's parking lot, Fin nodded. "Yeah, I'm sure you're right; God forbid if a gay man should become governor. That would be akin to the apocalypse as far as the opposition's concerned. They'll find someone else, all right, but they're running out of time. The election's less than four months away now. It's possible to get another serious contender in that time, but it'll have to be someone who already has some sort of name recognition."

Tony eyed him curiously. "Any idea who they might get to replace him?"

"Hard to say," Fin told him as he studied the question. "They would have to find someone who would appeal to a wide range of conservative voters in the state. Maybe one of the other state senators? There _are_ some decent Republicans," he teased, "despite what Turner would have everyone think." He sobered as he looked into Tony's eyes to say, "I've worked with some in Senate chambers, in fact." He shook his head as he let out a heavy breath. "They sure found a gem to run for them _this_ time, though."

Tony nodded; savoring the warmth of Fin's hand clasped in his. He leaned back in the couch and placed his head on Fin's shoulder, relishing the small amount of quiet time they had presently. Something told him that would be very short-lived soon. Fin took a moment to look down into his partner's face before he quietly flipped his cell phone open to make the call to Kirk that they were on their way to meet with him and the rest of his staff. His call concluded a few minutes later, he quietly set it down on the couch before sliding his arm around Tony's shoulder and pulling him closer, silently expressing his gratitude for the day fate conspired to bring them together at the courthouse so long ago.

* * *

_Same Time - O'Connor Campaign Bus _

The staff's mood inside the campaign bus was somber as they waited for their candidate to arrive with the currently most-talked about man in tow - his son and their campaign manager, Brian Kinney.

From his place at his makeshift desk near the back of the bus, Adam observed their downtrodden expressions and the funeral-like atmosphere with barely restrained glee. Stockwell's idea to discredit Kinney through Telson and Thomas seemed to be working perfectly; pretending he was taking a short smoke break, he had taken advantage of his time outside a short while ago to inform Underwood that they were still waiting to hear what O'Connor and Kinney were going to do to invalidate the startling revelations that had been leveled at them earlier this morning, but he had no idea yet exactly what tact they were going to take; he knew Kirk had spoken to Fin right after the press conference, but the man was holding whatever was said close to his vest at the moment for some reason; his face a neutral mask.

As intensely curious as he was at the moment, though, it was of no consequence in the long term. Whatever they decided to do, he was convinced the damage was irreparable. No matter whether Kinney went the predictable route and decided to resign as manager or not, there was no way the father could completely separate himself from what his son had done. _You made your bed, O'Connor, _he couldn't help thinking silently in satisfaction, _now go lie in it, fucker... _

His head jerked up to stare over at Kirk as the man abruptly banged a pen against his glass bottle of iced tea. "Listen up, everybody!" he told them. "I just got off the phone again with Fin; he and Brian are on their way over to the next meeting point in Allentown right now; we're meeting them there in thirty minutes; he will lay out our next step then. Everybody stow your gear so we can get moving!" he told them urgently.

Stewart squared his jaw in anticipation; so they were apparently about to find out the ramifications of what Turner had accomplished earlier this morning; he couldn't wait. Hopefully by the time this morning was over, there would be one less candidate to worry about. He smiled in delight at the thought as he began to gather up his belongings and secure them. _I've been waiting for this_, he thought in smug satisfaction as he sat back in his seat and the bus began to pull out toward the rendezvous point. _It won't be long now, Dad._

* * *

_Thirty Minutes - Allentown Civic Center Back Lot _

Fin's staff fidgeted in their seats, drumming pens on the fold-out desks of the bus's interior, taking an occasional sip of coffee or a drag on their cigarette as they waited impatiently for their beleaguered candidate to arrive with his son. They knew Fin had been intent on Brian Kinney leading his campaign; after this morning's events, however, was that about to change? Most of them thought that would be the only possible way they could still salvage their candidate's run for Governor.

"Here they come," Kirk observed as he looked through the front window of the bus and saw Fin's RV pulling up to the security gate; he could see a parade of media people pressing against the entrance, trying fervently to break in somehow but the guards had stationed themselves firmly in front of the metal, swinging structure and succeeded in permitting only the large vehicle to pass through as they literally shoved some of the more insistent members of the media out of the way.

Adam couldn't help scowling in disgust as the RV slowly approached their bus and he recognized Kinney behind the wheel with his husband next to him in the passenger seat. The quiet murmuring that had been permeating the interior of the bus instantly ceased as everyone watched the RV come to a stop next to their bus; through the massive windows of the RV they could see Fin and his son stand up and turn toward the door. A few seconds later, Kirk stood up to swing the door of the bus open in time to welcome the two men aboard.

"Kirk," Fin said, his tone serious as he shook his speechwriter's hand. Kirk returned the Senator's handshake, studying the expression on his face to determine his mood. To the man's credit, it didn't appear to be especially worried or defeated; rather, he seemed to have a determined sort of look on his face. He glanced over at Kinney, who shook hands with him as well, his grip strong and confident. He had to hand it to both men; neither appeared to be resigned or the least bit downtrodden.

"If everyone will have a seat," Fin told them as he and Brian sat down in a vinyl, navy-blue bench seat placed alongside the right side of the bus facing the small, fold-out tables interspersed throughout the remodeled interior. "We have a lot to cover with you."

Adam frowned, not liking the man's attitude or the sound of his voice. This did appear to be someone who was bemoaning his fate and accepting the inevitable; he had never taken O'Connor for an idiot, despite his disgust for the man's lifestyle, so why would he seem so unaffected by what had happened earlier? And his son looked almost cocky at the moment. What sort of game were they playing here?

Fifteen minutes later, he found out the reason why; while the rest of the group exploded into delighted cries of vindication over what their candidate had discovered, Adam plastered on a look of relief as he silently seethed inside with rage. What the fuck had Turner done? How stupid could he have been? He didn't even have people competent enough working for him that could adequately cover up their tracks? And just how did they discover all this, anyhow? O'Connor and his queer son were being especially tight-lipped about how they found all this incriminating information out, but supposedly some 'well-meaning' citizen had dredged up the information somehow and had contacted them. He turned his face toward the bus's window, pursing his lips tightly together in disappointment and disgust.

Everything he had worked for and hoped for was promptly going to shit; this was bad, very bad. If Turner didn't have to withdraw after Kinney and O'Connor got done with him, it would be a fucking miracle. And it would be too late to find someone suitable to overcome their horrendous logistical mistakes. No, if the worse-case scenario did come to pass, it would be up to him to prevent this man from ever attaining office.

He turned his attention back to the rest of the group as he heard Kinney telling them, "We're scheduling a press conference for one hour from now to replace the town meeting that was due to take place later tonight." He smiled as he turned to look at his father. "I think we'll manage to finish it just in time to make the evening news hour."

Fin grinned. "It's just a coincidence, you understand," he told his staff as they laughed in appreciation. "But something tells me we just might be the lead story tonight. We couldn't have dreamed up this publicity if we tried. And we owe it all to Turner - and his bumbling incompetence."

He stood up and walked over to a nearby coffeemaker, pouring himself a cup as he turned to face his now ecstatic followers. Holding up his mug as if in salute, he toasted the group, saying, "Here's to you, Turner; you really ARE a _Dick!_"

He waggled his eyebrows at Brian as his son grinned back at him.

"I have to take a piss," Adam muttered to no one in particular as he stood up to proceed to the back of the bus, no longer able to stand around and see everyone celebrating Turner's gross miscalculations. No one else seemed to even give him a second glance; they were all much too busy gloating over their unexpected good fortune. Expecting the inevitable by no later than tomorrow, he closed the narrow, accordion door of the compact bathroom stall, staring at his haggard face in the small mirror secured above the tiny sink. "Laugh all you want, fucker," he muttered softly to himself. "You won't be laughing when I get done with you."


	22. One Problem Solved  But Another Created

_A/N: Fin and Brian fire back with some salvos of their own at the press conference; but what will it ultimately bring?_

* * *

_Thanks to Boriqua522 for looking this over for me!:)_

* * *

_Same Time – Fin's Campaign RV_

Justin glanced out the large front window of the RV to observe Fin and Brian walking over to the campaign bus, Fin's hand companionably on his son's shoulder. His heart couldn't help fluttering over that small gesture; it seemed that despite all the backstabbing that Turner's campaign had been conducting lately, it had managed to create something that they probably had never anticipated – father and son had become closer together during all the hatred and bigotry they had generated. That was one fact that he was grateful for at least and provided them with just a little bit of poetic justice to offset the horridness of what the other camp had tried to do.

"You think we should have gone with them?" he heard Tony say behind him from his place at the small kitchen table.

He watched Brian and Fin disappear into the campaign bus before he turned around to face his friend and shook his head. "No," he decided. "I think it's best we stay out of their way for a while." He walked back over and, pouring himself a mug of coffee from the coffeemaker on the counter, pulled out a chair to join his friend. He smiled. "When Brian is in full take-charge mode, I've found that it's best to let him have his space and get his job done. When he's like that, he's focused on one thing and one thing alone. Besides, if I did show up over there, all he would do is tend to worry about me – despite what he might say otherwise – and the last thing he needs right now is to have something or someone else diverting his attention away from what he needs to do. It's more important right now that he and Fin try to straighten this mess out."

Tony nodded pensively as he took a sip from his own mug. "Yeah – Fin's the same way." He sighed. "Sometimes he's a little _too_ protective of me. You'd think I was some fresh-faced rookie just out of law school instead of a senior partner in my own firm." He glanced over at Justin. "So Brian treats you that way, too, huh? You're the _last_ person I would think of as fragile."

Justin huffed in amusement. "Thanks," he told him. "Brian doesn't normally think of me that, way, either; but it always seems like his common sense escapes him when he thinks I might wind up in harm's way." Silently, he thought that quality was kind of endearing, even though it could also be exasperating at times. He hadn't been a wet-behind-the-ears kid in a long time now, but to Brian he supposed he would always be someone needing protection from the 'big, bad, world.'

He let out a deep breath before he told Tony, "It's probably just as well we stay here while they're over at the bus strategizing; it's not the roomiest place in the world with all those staff members and equipment over there anyway. And I still get a little uncomfortable in situations like that." He shuddered a little at the thought. He had gotten much better over the years at being in masses of crowds of people, but when he had no elbow room to move around in sometimes the sensation of almost drowning fell upon him and he found himself almost smothering as a result.

Tony eyed him curiously. "Why? I would think with all the success you've had with your artwork that you would be fine in big crowds. I've read about your gallery showings, Justin; they draw people in the hundreds sometimes."

Justin blushed, a little embarrassed over the attention as he told Tony, "That's different. My agent knows if it starts to get too overwhelming for me I can always escape to the rear of the gallery or go outside for a while until it subsides." He let out a long breath before he explained, "It goes back to the bashing at my prom. I got all this unwanted attention afterward and for the longest time I could barely show my face in public; I felt like the walls were crashing in on me every time I went inside a bar or restaurant; anyplace that was crowded with people. And every time I was out in public, I felt like all these eyes were watching me; every time I got jostled or bumped into, my heart would start to pound and I'd break out into a cold sweat." His eyes peered out through the window of the RV as he was lost in another time and place. "If it hadn't been for Brian," he murmured, his voice soft and distant as the memories came flooding back, "I'm not sure if I could have found my way back to any semblance of normalcy again."

Tony was stunned; Justin had told him about that awful night and the long road he had faced toward recovery afterward, but he had had no idea of the psychological problems that had occurred. "Justin…I'm sorry you had to go through that."

Justin shook his head in dismissal, refusing to dwell on that horrible time. "It's okay," he told him, making it clear he was done discussing it. "That's over and done with," he insisted. "I just think it's best to wait a while. But I _would_ like to attend the press conference where Brian and Fin get up to rebut those two assholes' ridiculous statements – AND most of all when they give Turner the big heave-ho, because I think that's exactly what's going to happen once his part in all this is revealed."

Tony nodded with a grin; he was definitely looking forward to that, too. "Yeah – I don't want to miss that, either. I can't wait, in fact." His eyes darkened. "You know, I never would have considered myself naïve when it came to politics. I've certainly encountered my share of blowhards during courtroom proceedings as well as ass-kissers at political fundraisers. But Turner really takes the cake; this is _beyond _down and dirty in my book." He eyed his friend quietly for a moment before asking Justin, "How do you feel about Brian getting up and having to air all his – shall we say – _colorful _past in front of a national audience? Because you know that's exactly what's going to happen; Fin's press conference is no doubt going to be all over the web as well as the T.V."

Justin sighed. "Well, if I said I was happy about it, obviously I'd be lying," he admitted. "I'm not sure, for instance, how his grandparents are going to feel about it."

"I thought Kathy and Sean were very supportive of him," Tony pointed out as his fingers idly played with the rim of his mug.

Justin nodded with a smile, remembering how welcoming they had been to Brian and Gus, at least once their initial shock had worn off. "They were – they still are, in fact," he told him. "Gus is spending a few days with them right now; he and his grandfather are having a grand old time doing some fishing from what I hear, and I'm sure Kathy's having a blast spoiling him rotten as well." He had spoken to them a few days ago just to keep in touch, finding out to his surprise that Lindsay had allowed Gus to come visit them while she and Mel were out of town attending some legal conference for Mel's law firm in Memphis. In a way, though, he wasn't all that shocked that they had. The older couple had an easy-going way about them that immediately put people at ease; he had been impressed as well as relieved over how well they had accepted his and Brian's relationship and how they had embraced the idea and even rejoiced of having a newly-discovered grandson and great-grandson. And Gus, who normally was a very happy child but still somewhat cautious around strangers, had seemed to take to them – and their dog, Butterscotch – very quickly. How Sean and Kathy would react to Brian's previous 'unorthodox' lifestyle, though, was yet to be seen. And even he had no idea just how much detail Brian would have to go into at the press conference. He DID know that Brian wouldn't layer lie upon lie just to avoid some unpleasantness; he suspected some of the details his husband would have to divulge wouldn't be the easiest ones to reveal – Brian wasn't exactly proud of some of the things he had done before – but he also knew that Brian wouldn't avoid a full disclosure of his previous lifestyle just to try and defer any further criticism of him.

Justin brushed his left hand through the hair at the back of his neck and sighed as he glanced over at his friend. "I think Brian has mixed feelings about what they're going to have to do later today," he told Tony. "I think he's looking forward to seeing the record straight about exactly what happened between him and those two morons, but he's also not particularly relishing the idea of having to dredge up some activities that he's not especially proud of."

"Justin, we all have things in our past that we would rather not relive," Tony pointed out as he cupped both hands around his mug. "That's only human."

Justin eyed his friend intently. "I suppose," he replied. "Although you don't seem like the wild and crazy type to me – at least if you overlook all those crazy disguises Fin described." Fin had spent one evening regaling him and Brian with entertaining tales of the various disguises his partner had resorted to in an attempt to keep their relationship better hidden. Ever since Fin had finally come out with the truth about the two of them, though, Tony had pretty much retired all his 'outfits.'

Tony smiled. "Well, _almost_ retired anyway; there's always masquerade parties for Halloween."

Justin smiled back at him. "Yeah, I guess they would come in handy then." His smile lessened as he thought about what Brian and his father were about to undertake. While the idea of putting Turner and his cronies in their place held enormous satisfaction for him, he worried nonetheless about how the media – and the public – would react.

As if he were reading his mind, he heard Tony say softly, "You're worried about the press conference, too."

Justin nodded; all seriousness now. "Yeah, a little I guess," he admitted. "I know Fin and Brian can both take care of themselves…"

"Then what?" Tony asked curiously. "I don't see Fin OR Brian backing down; that's not the way they operate."

One edge of Justin's lips curled up in amusement as he replied, "No, neither one of them knows the meaning of the word _quit_, do they? But that's part of their charm." Tony grinned back at him in agreement as he glanced over at a small, round brass-colored clock hanging over the kitchenette sink. "It won't be too long before the press conference," he observed. Scooting back from his chair, he wiped his hands on a nearby disposable napkin as he picked his coffee mug up and stood up to carry it over to the kitchen sink. Placing it down, he turned to his friend. "Ready to go greet the jackals and see Brian and his father knock them down a peg?"

Tony grinned as he too, stood up and carried his mug over to the kitchen sink. Placing a hand on Justin's shoulder, he gave it a brief squeeze before dropping his hand to his side. "Can't wait," he told him. "Let's go see the O'Connor-Kinney team kick some ass."

Justin smiled back at him as he reached over and, grabbing his lightweight black and white jacket, followed Tony over to the door.

_Fifteen Minutes Earlier – Staff Campaign Bus _

Adam Stewart seethed as he sat on one of the bus's vinyl bench seats and tried to plaster a neutral expression on his face; inside, however, he was itching to call Underwood and give him a heads up that their so-called, well-constructed, foolproof plan to discredit O'Connor and his arrogant son was about to be shot to hell. Having just taken both a smoke break as well as a bathroom break, however, he couldn't think of a legitimate reason why he would need to go outside again, and he didn't want to throw suspicion on himself at the moment. He had tried to make a call in the small, cramped bathroom to try and warn Turner about this disturbing turn of events, but he had discovered to his dismay that he could not obtain a signal in the sheltered, confining space. Thinking that he might need to maintain an element of anonymity just in case he had to take matters into his own hands at some point, he ultimately decided for the time being to keep his mouth shut and his eyes open for an opportunity to somehow still turn this pending disastrous situation around. One thing he _did _know: O'Connor could not be permitted to come out the winner in this election. Just the thought of that perverted queer and his _partner_ cavorting in the governor's mansion and flaunting their queer lifestyle for all the world to see filled him with disgust.

He turned his attention to the man and his son as they finished up their strategy meeting. O'Connor was about to appear at a press conference with Kinney to try and put out the fire that Turner thought could not possibly be extinguished. Thanks to his camp's incompetency, however, the promising direction he thought Turner's campaign was taking was now about to suffer what he feared was a mortal wound. The worst part of it all was that there didn't seem to be a damned thing he could do about it, either. Maybe that was true, though, and maybe it wasn't. He bit his lip as he watched the easy-going type of banter now reverberating throughout the room; what he thought was going to be akin to a death knell for the man had quickly turned into almost a celebration. He turned his face toward the window, observing the massive crowd of media now spilling onto the side of the Allentown Civic Center visible to their location. He couldn't see how many people were congregated in the front entrance, waiting to get in to hear O'Connor speak, but if the amount of boom trucks and camera crews interspersed throughout the area it was obvious there was going to be a huge amount of media attending the press conference coming up. Before it would have filled him with extreme satisfaction; now, however, it only provided him with a sense of impending dread.

He looked up as he observed father and son standing up. "Gentlemen, let's get this dog and pony show started," Fin told his staff. He looked over at Brian with a grin as he added, "This is one press conference I can't wait to start."

Don Meyers, Fin's old college chum and present bodyguard, stood up. "Just a minute," he told him as he walked around the two. "Let me go first; I've got some supplementary security detail staff who are waiting to join us outside." Don was a former policeman with the Harrisburg P.D.; he had attended the police academy fresh out of school after flunking out of his LSAT exam for the bar and had found to his surprise that he really enjoyed the down-and-dirty world of being a beat cop on the downtown streets. Thirty years later he had been able to retire at the fairly early age of 55; finding himself oddly bored with his more sedentary life until his old friend, Fin, had called him a few months ago with a request for him to handle his security detail. Now as he found himself ensconsed in the day-to-day operations of the Senator's campaign, he was having the time of his life. That didn't mean that he didn't take his job seriously, however.

Fin clapped one hand on his old friend's back. "Okay then, Matt Dillon – lead the way," he teased him as he and Brian held back long enough for the tall, rather imposing figure of his friend to open the door and emerge out onto the pavement of the rear parking lot. He took a cursory look around the secure area, noting no one lurking about to his satisfaction, before he nodded up at his friend to follow. "We're going in through the rear entrance," he told Fin as he and Brian walked alongside him, the rest of their staff closely in tow behind them along with approximately a dozen other off-duty policemen that Meyers had procured for tonight's encounter. He wasn't sure if they would be necessary, but in light of the bombshell information Fin was going to drop on the press, he felt it was a prudent precaution to take. "The press is being kept segregated from that area."

Fin nodded as Mark Leon, his 'jack-of-all-trades' assistant, caught up with them. "Where exactly will Brian and I be speaking?" he asked Mark.

"You're all set up in the Oakwood Banquet Room," Mark told his boss. "There's a raised stage at the front that is already equipped with a podium and microphone. The major networks will be utilizing the same camera feed to capture yours and Brian's statements."

As Fin nodded in understanding, Brian asked, "Did you relay the protocol for the press conference? Not that I really expect them to actually follow our request," he muttered. The press hadn't exactly been in their camp from Day One; but something told him by the time they got done they just might start to change.

Mark grinned. "Yeah, I don't either; I suspect that following the rules isn't exactly their specialty," he added with a smirk. "But each credentialed press representative was provided with a copy of our stipulation to hold off on any questions until both you and the Senator are finished making your statements."

Brian nodded as they continued walking toward the rear entrance; he could see cameramen recording their every movement now from the side of the building. He intentionally turned to gaze directly into the camera, concentrating on making the public realize that neither he – nor his father – was going to back down in the midst of what seemed like a public relations fiasco. If everything went as they hoped, soon enough, the press – as well as the public – would know the entire story and what could have been a total nightmare will be turned around in their favor.

"Fin?"

Brian's father turned around slightly to face Kirk Littleton, his speechwriter. "You have the revisions done, Kirk?"

Kirk nodded. "Right here," he told him as he handed the senator four sheets of typewritten script; several hastily-scrawled notations were made throughout the text, reflecting changes that Fin had asked him to make earlier when he had met with his staff. He had ultimately decided to rely at least somewhat on prepared notes, but a large part of what he had to say would also be based on Brian's comments beforehand. His son – for better or worse – had decided to talk off the cuff, without virtue of any official notes. Brian had assured him that he could more than take care of rebutting what the two other men had had to say about him, and Fin's documentation about the specifics should more than compensate for any damage they thought they were going to do to his campaign.

"Thanks," Fin told him as he quickly perused the changes to make sure they were what he wanted. Satisfied, he looked over at Brian as they arrived at the back, double-door entrance. "Ready to take on the world, Mr. Campaign Manager?" he asked him, lifting one eyebrow in a perfect Kinney-esque imitation of his son.

Brian curled one side of his mouth upward. "Damn right I am," he growled. He hesitated, a sudden thought occurring to him. In their haste to get ready for this hastily-called press conference, he and Fin had been immersed for the past hour in preparations. "I thought Justin and Tony would be here."

Fin turned around to look, but he was having trouble seeing around his staff and the extra security people that his friend Don has procured for protection. He knew his partner and son-in-law wouldn't miss this for anything. "I'm sure they'll be here shortly," he told him, glancing down at his watch to notice how late it was getting. Being featured on the evening news broadcasts was one of their goals this evening, so time was of the essence if they were going to finish up before it was time for them to go on. "We'd better get going," he told Brian somewhat reluctantly. "I'm sure they're right behind us," he told him. "I'll make sure Mark keeps an eye out for them." He turned to Mark who nodded that he would before he lightly grasped Brian's lower arm. Brian took one quick look back once more before he nodded and following Don and Fin into the civic center.

_Same Time – Near the RV_

"Shit!" Justin proclaimed in part amazement/part disdain as he noticed the ever-burgeoning crowd that had swelled since the last time he had looked out the front window of the RV. He stood in the open doorway of the RV's entrance at the tops of the steps, waiting for Tony to join him.

"What? Tony asked as he walked up behind him. He didn't have to provide him with an answer, however, as Tony peeked his head around the open doorway. "Unbelievable," he exclaimed as he surveyed the mass of bodies, camera boom trucks and even a helicopter circling overhead like some giant, silver vulture surrounding its carrion. "There must be twice the people as the last time we looked."

Justin nodded, his lips pursed tightly together. "Try to conduct a _civil_ town meeting somewhere and just John Q. Public shows up; get just whiff of scandal and possible tabloid fodder and the whole fucking _state_ shows up." He watched now as the side entrance of the building was now opened up and some of the people began to scurry inside the civic center like rats sensing cheese. "Great," he muttered to Tony. "Even if we go in the back entrance, we'll have to negotiate our way around all those other people. I knew we should have left a little earlier."

Tony placed a hand companionably on Justin's shoulder, knowing Justin's need – just like his own – to be near his partner. He had a sudden need to be there, too; he had no idea until right now just how big this whole situation had become. He eyed the paid and cable national news trucks parked outside and the numerous local station crews mingling around the perimeter of the building, their microphones thrust in front of their faces as they began to tape their initial, preliminary reports, no doubt frothing at the mouth of what might be disclosed at the press conference, and he knew he had to let Fin know somehow that he was there in full support of him.

"It'll be okay," he softly reassured him, realizing after what Justin had told him earlier that he wasn't feeling too comfortable about being surrounded with such a large mass of people in such tight quarters, but also knowing Justin would forge ahead anyway to be near Brian. "I'm sure once one of Fin's staff recognizes us at the back door they can find a short cut somehow to get us to the back of the podium area."

Justin let out a nervous breath, feeling the unwanted and all-too-familiar clammy feeling washing over him. "I hope so," he said. "Okay, then, let's get going," he decided as he squared his shoulders. "I want to be there when they start; I want to be there for the whole fucking thing." Despite his feelings, there was no way he was going to miss any of it – or let Brian know that he was firmly standing behind him, both figuratively and literally.

Tony nodded as he let go of Justin's shoulder and reached to close the door behind them. Feeling several pairs of curious eyes on them as they began to walk toward the civic center, he intentionally turned to stare down the crowd unflinchingly, almost daring them to challenge his and Justin's right to be there. He noticed Justin doing the same thing, despite his uneasiness, and he couldn't help the almost proud feeling that welled inside him over his young friend courage and determination. He could certainly see how his partner's son had been so attracted to this amazing man, the same man who had emboldened him to give Fin an ultimatum to either be honest with himself and others or risk seeing the end of their relationship. He couldn't help think in a way how ironic that was. If he hadn't insisted on Fin being so open about his sexuality and their relationship to the public, perhaps they wouldn't be in this vicarious situation now. But he also knew he wouldn't change anything; he was glad they were no longer living a lie, despite what the repercussions might be.

A few minutes later, they reached the back double doors of the civic center; to his disappointment as well as his surprise, he noticed two uniformed policemen standing guard to either side, both of whom he did not recognize, rather than the familiar face of Don Meyers, Fin's old friend in charge of security. He and Justin gave each other a puzzled look as they walked up the closed doors.

"Sorry," one of the men, the taller of the two sporting a close-cropped head of dark-blond hair and piercing eyes of gray, told them. "There's no admittance for the public this way." He peered at the two men suspiciously, wondering how they had even gotten inside the cordoned off area of the parking lot. It had been his understanding that this area had been strictly reserved for members of the Senator's campaign staff.

Tony huffed out a soft sigh of frustration. "We're not the _public_," he said almost with disdain since that word only conjured up unpleasant behavior lately. He pondered just how to introduce the two of them and finally decided that to hell with it; he wasn't hiding anything anymore. If these two men didn't like it, then screw them – at least figuratively speaking. "I'm the Senator's partner and this is the husband of Brian Kinney, the Senator's son and campaign manager."

The man who had spoken to him stole a glance at the other policeman that to both Tony and Justin appeared to contain a bit of disgust in it before he told Tony icily, "I don't care if you claim you're the fucking _Pope_; I was told by Mr. Meyers that no one else gets in through this entrance. If you want to get in you'll have to go through one of the other public entrances. No one gets in this door until I'm told it's okay."

Justin's eyes flashed; he had had more than his share of this treatment over the years and he was sick to death of it. "Listen, you asshole," he growled as Tony gripped his wrist in a silent bid to calm him down a little, "Did you not hear what Tony said? He's Fin's _partner_ – as in lover, boyfriend, whatever the hell you want to call it – and I'm Fin's _son-in-law_ – that's what you call someone who's married to your son. Now let us in the fucking DOOR!"

But to both men's consternation, the taller policeman defiantly stood his ground. "Look, I have no idea you're telling me the truth; believe me, when it comes to the press and their underhanded tactics, I've heard it all. Now I repeat: go around to one of the other entrances. No one is getting in this way until the press conference is over."

"You have GOT to be fucking kidding me!" Justin retorted in disgust as he glared up at the man, his hands on his hips. "Call Don Meyers and ASK him who we are! He knows who we are!" He turned to look at Tony whose face reflected the same sort of disbelief that he was feeling.

"Nice try," the man told him. "You can drop names all you want; that still doesn't prove you're who you say you are."

"Oh, for fuck's sake!" Tony exclaimed in indignation as he flipped his cellphone open to call Fin's private number. "I'll prove it to you, then, you idiot!" Being an attorney, Tony normally had a lot of respect for the blue's finest, but this man definitely was not worthy of such an acknowledgement; he was not only stubborn as hell but apparently some sort of homophobic prick as well. He rolled his eyes in incredulity as the phone began to ring and then immediately went to voicemail; apparently his partner had turned his phone off in preparation for his press conference. "It's going straight to voicemail," he told Justin. "Try and see if you can reach Brian; maybe he can at least send someone out to persuade this _gorilla_ that we are who we say we are."

Justin nodded as he glared over at the obstinate policeman, reaching inside his jacket to locate his phone and flip it open. Punching the single number quick dial for Brian's number, he brought the phone up to his ear as he, too, listened in dismay as it went right into his husband's voicemail as well. "Damn it!" he cried out as he slammed the phone shut.

"Same thing?"

Justin nodded as he looked hopefully over at the other security guard who had chosen to remain silent during their entire encounter with his nasty counterpart. "Look, can't you just go inside and find one of Fin's staff to vouch for us?"

The man, a slender, somewhat swarthy-looking black-haired man appeared sympathetic to their plight but after looking over at his fellow officer and seeing the look of scorn on his face, he crumbled under the other man's icy stare as he shook his head. "I'm sorry – we're not allowed to leave our post."

Justin shook his head and let out an audible huff. It was obvious they wouldn't get anywhere with these two idiots and it was getting later by the second. Grabbing Tony's sleeve this time, he pressed him, "Come on, Tony; the press conference is about to start. Let's go," he urged him. He stared up into the taller man's, a look of scorn as well as almost pity on his face as he told his friend, "We can deal with _them_ later."

"I'm just doing my job," the taller man insisted as he glared down at the blond spitfire and crossed his burly arms over his barrel chest, not willing to budge in his position.

Both Tony and Justin glared back at him before Tony finally nodded. "You'll never work another security detail for Fin again," he told him with quiet resolve as he slowly turned and followed Justin toward the side door.

"I can't believe that asshole!" Tony exclaimed angrily as he walked next to his friend. "Don Meyers would have never hired either one of them if he knew they were like that."

Justin glanced back at the two men; the taller one was still staring back at them, no longer trying to hide his outright disgust for them this time. "I'm sure he didn't know," Justin told him as he turned back around to fall into place with the rest of the crowd pressing inside. He deliberately kept a few feet between them and the group in front of them, not wanting to feel too overwhelmed by the impatient rush of people flowing inside.

As if sensing his discomfort, Tony placed his hand on Justin's upper left arm to gently steer him toward the door. "We can head toward the back once we get in," he assured him softly as they followed a group of people toward the door. "I'm sure we can find one of the guys on Fin's staff."

Justin nodded as they finally entered the building; his sighed in relief as they came out into a large, open hallway that afforded them some more elbow space. He immediately migrated over to a far wall where less people were congregated as he and Tony got their bearings.

Glancing around, he realized they were hemmed in all over; from their standpoint, he couldn't even tell where the stage entrance was. He sighed as he looked into Tony's sympathetic face. "This is fucking ridiculous," he muttered to his friend. "I think we'll have to try and enter through the regular entrance like everyone else and hope we can get Fin or Brian's attention."

Tony nodded. "Yeah, I agree." He looked over a side door nearby, noticing the interior was filling up. "We'd better get in there," he told him. "Looks like it's about to start."

Justin nodded as he followed his friend over to the nearest side entrance for the large banquet room and slipped inside; he was astounded by how packed it was. The room had to hold at least 500 people and every available chair seemed to be taken. In fact, several members of the press were now standing up around the round banquet tables interspersed throughout the room, making it difficult to see the podium erected at the far side of the room up on the stage.

"Shit, I can't believe this!" Tony practically yelled in Justin's ear; it was the best way to get his friend's attention amongst the boisterous voices bouncing off the walls of the reception room. "There's no fucking way we're going to get any closer," he told him. "We'd better stay put right here, don't you think?"

Justin sighed. "Yeah, I guess you're right." He craned his neck as he watched a group of people coming out onto the stage approximately 75 feet away from them; his heart skipped a beat as he spied Fin and Brian entering behind the rest of Fin's staff to take their places side by side at the podium. He grasped Tony's sleeve as his friend looked at him and nodded; his face was an almost exact mirror of his own as he noticed Tony's gaze fixed on his partner's commanding presence on stage, at once apprehensive for him but also extremely proud, too, of Fin's courage and strength.

Standing at Tony's side, Justin was having similar thoughts. This was the first time he had seen father and son standing together as one in such a public venue, and the sight filled him with a little trepidation but also a sense of fulfillment that he had had a hand in bringing them together. The two men cut a dramatic, impressive picture at the podium as they both faced the oppressive, overflowing crowd with confidence almost as they waited for the crowd's boisterousness to die down. Justin could almost physically feel the hostility flowing from the media that were waiting for what they assumed would be a surrender to the inevitable after the explosive revelations earlier in the day. Despite his nervousness for both his husband as well as his father-in-law, though, he still had to smile a little at the thought that the press was going to be in for a major surprise in addition to Turner's camp that no doubt were almost smelling victory at the moment. _Think again, assholes,_ he couldn't help thinking as he subconsciously held his breath as he waited for the start of the press conference.

The microphone on the podium emitted a brief, ear-splitting squelch for a few seconds, serving to help quell the noise as the press slowly quieted down and Fin began to speak at last.

His heart beating rapidly in his chest, Fin inhaled a deep breath though his slightly parted lips and glanced over at Brian, who nodded, before he began. "Ladies and gentlemen of the press and citizens of the state of Pennsylvania, as I imagine all of you know my name is Senator Fintan O'Connor and I am running for governor of what I feel is the greatest state in the USA. I have always thought that one of the best things about this great country of ours is the freedoms that we all enjoy, including freedom of speech. Lately, however, that freedom has been used perversely by my opponent's camp in an attempt to destroy my and my son's credibility. Well, let me set the record straight on that, my friends; if you have all come here expecting a eulogy to be given in memory of my campaign, that is NOT going to happen. Quite the contrary. I have some enlightening information of our own that I think will put that notion to rest right now."

He reached out to place his hand on his son's shoulder; their similar frames and height instantly noticeable. "I would like to first rectify an oversight that I should have corrected a long time ago; in front of you and this national audience I would like to formally – and proudly – introduce you to my campaign manager and most importantly my son – Brian Kinney."

There was a murmuring in the crowd over Fin's defiant and surprising opening statements that increased slightly in volume as he officially acknowledged his son standing by his side. Justin and Tony glanced at each other, both of their faces reflecting their support of their men up on stage.

Fin held up in his right hand in an effort to calm the crowd as he continued, "Brian has a statement he wants to make in regards to the accusations leveled against him earlier today, and then I will also have a statement. I will permit an _orderly_," Fin stated, emphasizing the last word as an admonition, "question and answer period afterward. Brian?" he called out his son's name politely; he gave his shoulder a brief, encouraging squeeze before he dropped his hand and stood back several inches from the podium as Brian stepped forward.

To the crowd, Brian's steady gaze out upon the sea of faces appeared calm and collected; to Justin's trained eye, however, he didn't miss the clenching of Brian's hand at his side or the single swallow of his Adam's apple, signifying to him how nervous Brian was. He knew, though, that Fin's son would not let him down and that he was eager to set the record straight with no apology for his previous lifestyle, although he suspected he _did _regret some of it. As Brian often told him, however, you could never undo what had already been done. That didn't mean, though, that you couldn't set the record straight.

Brian took a silent intake of breath as he eyed the crowd evenly; he could feel his pulse racing, partly out of nervousness but also from indignation as he began, "As my father just stated, my name is Brian Kinney. I'm sure my name is already quite familiar to all of you after this morning's vitriolic and inaccurate statements that were made by so-called reputable sources speaking on behalf of Turner's campaign."

The crowd was now listening in rapt attention as Brian spoke; it was in marked contrast to the animated conversation that had been occurring just minutes before. The only sounds at the moment that could be heard were the soft whirrs and clicks of the cameras being used to tape the press conference for broadcast on the evening news.

"First of all, there _are_ a few parts of both Mr. Thomas's and Mr. Telson's statements that are actually factual; I did have a business relationship with both parties. Mr. Telson was a potential client of my former employer, the Ryder Advertising agency, and Mr. Thomas was a co-worker of mine as he stated. That, however, is where the accuracies end," Brian told them firmly, his clear voice carrying throughout the room. "I initially asked Mr. Telson if he wanted to attend a sports event and was turned down, only to be asked later if I would accompany him to a gay dance club in Pittsburgh by the name of Babylon. Until Mr. Telson suggested that activity I had no idea that he – shall we say – preferred dick."

There was a tittering of nervous laughter from the audience as a tiny bit of a smile of amusement appeared on Fin's face before Brian continued. "Having frequented Babylon a multitude of times in the past, I offered later to introduce Mr. Telson to anyone that he seemed interested in while we were there; the only one he was interested in, however, was _me." _

Justin took a deep breath, knowing Brian had to be honest about himself but also feeling inexplicably uncomfortable having Brian disclose his previous, promiscuous sex life for all the world to hear. He was grateful to feel Tony place his hand on his shoulder and give it a squeeze, but his eyes were only for his husband as Brian continued to explain in painful detail what his life used to be like.

"At the time Mr. Telson asked me to come over to his hotel room the next evening for a little 'entertainment,' I admit I felt it might be beneficial to winning him over as a client. We were too consenting adults who were free to do what we pleased and it wasn't hurting anyone else. However, when I discovered through a call from his wife that he was not only married but had children as well, I promptly ended our encounter, despite Mr. Telson's claim that I tried to keep him there. Far from it; _Mr. Telson_ was the one who didn't want to leave, telling me that there was nothing he could for his daughter and that it could wait until morning." Brian paused for a moment before explaining, "It was me who called the front desk to tell them Mr. Telson was checking out, not the other way around."

Justin again heard the rumble of the crowd as he and Tony exchanged a nervous glance. He wasn't sure if the crowd was murmuring in doubt or suspicion over Brian's claims, surprise, or both. He did notice several people whispering amongst themselves, as well as several hurriedly writing notes down on either paper or electronic devices.

"As far as Kip Thomas goes," Brian continued. "As I said, yes, he was a co-worker of mine, a very _ambitious_ co-worker who wanted everything and wanted it yesterday. And yes, he was quite intelligent and very driven to succeed; too much. So much so that after we engaged in two instances of _consensual_ sexual activities, he assumed that as a fellow gay male I would automatically recommend him for a promotional position at the agency. When that didn't happen – when I actually had the gall to suggest that he _earn_ his achievements just like I had – he promptly turned around and sued me for sexual harassment, which was a total fabrication and distortion of the facts."

Brian's eyes swept around the room until he finally zoomed in on the person he was seeking; his face softened somewhat as he locked gazes with Justin, who smiled back at him tenderly in return. Emboldened by his husband's understanding, encouragement and love shining back at him, he admitted, "Part of what Mr. Thomas said about how he was forced to drop the harassment claim against Ryder Agency is true; he _was _encouraged by the man who would later become my husband to take him back to his apartment in hopes of engaging in a mutual tryst, only to be frightened into dropping the lawsuit against me in exchange for assurance that he would not be prosecuted for having under-age sex with a minor. In reality, the actual age of consent at the time this occurred was seventeen, so the claims of possible prosecution or retaliation by my husband's father were merely a sham to get him to drop the suit. While I don't condone what my husband did, I realize he was doing it as a way to extricate me from what he saw as an impossible situation and I have nothing but admiration for the courage he displayed in doing so."

The eyes in the room swept over toward Justin as he temporarily became the center of attention. He flushed at Brian's heartfelt words, feeling his pulse quicken and his body break out into a cold sweat as he realized everyone's attention, including the cameras, were presently focused on him. He knew Brian hadn't meant to give his presence away necessarily, but he inadvertently had nonetheless.

Brian must have sensed his discomfiture, because he watched as his husband motioned for Don Meyers to walk over to him and, after whispering something in his ear, the man seemed to magically appear by his and Tony's side about a minute later as Brian continued to defend his actions. It didn't totally eliminate the feelings of the walls closing in on him, but at least it _did_ ease his worry somewhat that a member of the media would pounce on him and Tony the moment the press conference was over.

As if reading his mind, Don leaned over to Justin and whispered loudly, "You and Tony come with me." Justin nodded as the man lightly grasped his wrist as led the two of them over toward the side of the stage, keeping his body between them and the rest of the group like a protective shield.

As soon as reached the same level as Brian and Fin, Don said to them, "This way," as he led them off-stage toward the left to stand approximately 25 feet away from their loved ones. Both men could still see father and son on the stage, but no one in the audience could see them directly now, providing them with some much-needed privacy. Don Meyers kept a close stance next to them, just as Brian had requested as he continued explaining their position over the morning's allegations.

"I will not deny that several years ago I was very active sexually," Brian admitted as the room again began to hum over the somewhat salacious statement. "But at the time, I was a consenting adult free to do as I pleased with others who felt the same way; I at no time participated in any under-age sexual activity with anyone. Nor did I _ever_ force another sexual partner to do what they did not want to do willingly." He and Fin had discussed disclosing Brian's predilection toward using recreational drugs at the time, too, but ultimately chose to hold off on openly disclosing that, electing to be up front about it if it were brought up later during the question-and-answer session, but feeling it would only muddy the somewhat clouded waters that were already churning with lies and deceit already. He had been upfront with his father about it in private, but it had been merely luck that during the times he had had dalliances with both men he had elected for some reason not to imbibe in one of his favorite pastimes; he was sure if he had Telson or Thomas would have been more than happy to reveal all of the sordid details to the press.

"These man both had ulterior motives for doing what they did this morning, ladies and gentlemen," Brian spoke out clearly. "It's very simple really – they did it for revenge over being rejected as well as for good, old American money."

As the crowd began to hum in anticipation, sensing a possible startling revelation coming, Brian felt his father's hand once more on his shoulder as Fin stepped up to the microphone. "My son is correct," Fin told them authoritatively. "We have irrefutable evidence from a reputable source that both men had $20,000 deposited into their respective checking accounts two days ago from a gentleman by the name of Alfred Kleemeyer, who is none other than the retired, former comptroller for Turner Logistics, Richard Turner's own company."

The crowd erupted into an uproar of shock and surprise as the walls rang with their voices of incredulity; Fin and Brian both noticed several reporters hastily keying in information into their portable electronic devices, no doubt beginning to transmit the startling news to their respective outlets in an attempt to be the first one to reveal this unexpected information.

Fin held up his hand in an attempt to try and quell the tumultuous reaction to his statement as he added, "There's more. Mr. Telson's $20,000 was deposited to an off-shore account in the Channel Islands, no doubt in an attempt to hide this windfall from his ex-wife who he owes several thousand dollars to in alimony payments. As part of his divorce stipulation he was to sell his business, Telson Tires, and split the proceeds with her. What he failed to tell her, however, is that he still owns the business through a mock shell company under the name of Quality Tires, LLC."

The crowd once more began to speak at once as Fin raised his voice to be heard above the din. "And as for Mr. Thomas," he told them, his voice picking up volume again as he felt a second, victorious wind coming, "As for Mr. Thomas – we determined that Mr. Thomas was terminated by another ad agency by the name of Orbit Enterprises due to insubordination before coming to work for the Ryder Agency; the insubordination was due to his attempt to steal another co-worker's ideas and claim them as his own. And he has filed a total of ten lawsuits for various frivolous reasons in the past two years, during which time he has been unemployed on total disability due to a work-related accident. He settled with his last employer for $100,000 in addition to his workers' compensation."

Fin and Brian had wisely chosen not to reveal that Orbit had settled out of court with Thomas for $50,000, deciding that bowing under the pressure of Thomas's claim over being fired erroneously might not reflect positively for their side. To Fin, though, it really didn't matter; both men were total assholes and not to be trusted anyway; they had more than ample proof of that.

"Now I ask you, members of the press as well as the voters here in attendance this afternoon; are these two _gentlemen_ – and I use that word very loosely here – men that are to be trusted with the truth? And more importantly – how much can you trust the candidate whose former employee deposited $20,000 into each of these men's checking accounts two days before they issued these explosive allegations under his express direction? I think that statement speaks for itself," Fin told them as he completed his mainly off-the-cuff statement. He took a deep breath, knowing the shit was about to hit the fan as he stated as calmly as he could, "I will now take questions that you may have." Of course he knew that was an understatement as soon as it left his mouth and he was proven correct as a virtual torrent of questions were thrown his way, so much so that he couldn't make out any of them clearly in order to answer them.

"So much for _orderly_ progression," he leaned in to whisper loudly in Brian's ear. Brian smirked at him as he raised his voice out over the hubbub immediately below them. "One at a time!" he sternly directed them, in full Fintan O'Connor mode. "Or I won't answer ANY of them!" For a change he finally felt like he was in command now as the crowd died down considerably. Still, several media people attempted to thrust their questions out at once as they jockeyed to have them answered.

Fin finally pointed out one of the more well-known reporters standing nearby that he recognized as a national cable news network star investigator. "Yes…Malcolm," he stated as he pointed at the well-dressed, dark-haired man who was the current darling of the network. Malcolm Jacobs was renowned for being a tough, bulldog-type of reporter but also a fair one.

"How did you find all this information out, Senator? Just how reputable is this source you're quoting?"

Fin nodded; he had pretty much been expecting that to be the initial question. Of course Tony had promised Seavers that he wouldn't divulge the exact source, and he had to honor that request. Thank goodness the man had been true to his word and had emailed the pertinent document to Tony's phone. "The source this information was obtained is quite credible," he told Jacobs. "They wish to remain anonymous; however, we will distribute copies of the actual documented evidence regarding both deposits as well as who made them available to members of the press shortly after this conference is adjourned. If Mr. Turner wishes to dispute his knowledge of his former comptroller's role in providing this unexpected windfall to Telson and Turner, then that will be up to him to decide. But I think all of you here tonight will agree that the odds of him not knowing are extremely slim."

Cries of "Senator" erupted once more as Fin this time turned to the opposite side to take a question from a tall, slim woman with long blond hair and half-rimmed glasses; she was dressed in a red blazer and skirt with bright red lipstick and eyed him intently as she asked, "Senator, what is your response to those more conservative constituents who may now have questions regarding Mr. Turner's involvement in this issue but at the same time are unable to accept a candidate as well as his son whom they regard as engaging in an aberrant lifestyle?"

Fin let out a ragged breath, knowing this question, too, would likely come up but hoping that it wouldn't be thrust upon him once again today. He tried to keep a neutral expression on his face and keep his voice calm as he responded. "What I would say to those voters is to search their hearts for what is truly important in this campaign, what truly matters to them. I am not downplaying their values and convictions at all – I respect their choices as I hope they would respect mine – but at the same time isn't it more important that the people of Pennsylvania have someone in the Governor's office who can lead them out of the economic muck that we are presently in? Someone who has had years of experience maneuvering through the obstacles presented by bureaucracy and favoritism and refuses to buckle under to special interest groups? Someone who has a clear vision of what is needed to lead this state in the direction it needs to go? Or someone who resorts to unscrupulous tactics to prevent someone whose lifestyle is contrary to his own from reaching his goal?"

Fin didn't really mean for this part of the press conference to evolve into an impromptu speech but he found that he couldn't help it. He glanced over at Tony, who nodded in encouragement; he of all people knew how he could get when he was passionate about something he cared about. He bestowed a tender smile on his partner before he turned back to face the audience. "To me, ladies and gentlemen, that sort of attitude smacks of intolerance and narrow-mindedness. Is that really the type of person you want leading such a diverse state as this one? Someone who places more priority on what a person does in private over the leadership qualities that will be needed to meet the challenges facing this state? That is how I would respond to that question."

Another round of voices called out from the audience as Fin shook his head firmly. He had said his piece as had his son; the ball was in his opponent's court now. He nodded over at Mark Leon who was standing nearby. Speaking into the microphone, his assistant told the crowd authoritatively, "That's it for now, Ladies and Gentlemen; copies of the documents discussed will be available shortly. This press conference is adjourned." The loud din from the mass of people was ignored as Mark held out his hand to lead Fin and Brian back off the stage toward their partners in the direction opposite the rest of Fin's staff, who, along with a majority of the constituents in the audience, were clapping their approval. Once the media determined that Fin was, indeed, serious about not taking any more questions they all began to race toward the exits, determined to be the first person to obtain a live feed from their respective stations so they could provide the incredible scoop of the night.

As he watched Tony and Fin embrace as well and Brian Kinney bestowing a brief kiss on Justin Taylor's lips, Adam Stewart's face contorted with anger and contempt over their arrogant display of public affection. _So much for conducting themselves in 'private,' _he couldn't help silently thinking. His hands clenched into fists as his side as he turned his face away from the sickening sight, not wanting to show his hand just yet. He was anxious to contact Turner's team to make sure they were aware of everything that had transpired this afternoon and to find out just what the hell they were going to do about it. For the first time, he was beginning to doubt whether Turner could accomplish what he had set out to do; after what had just been divulged the man would be hard pressed to squirm out of this debacle.

Taking a deep breath, he turned to walk off in the opposite direction, seeking a private space where he could make his call. He glanced back one more time at the two smug-looking couples embracing each other before, with a disgusted shake of his head, he hurried off the stage, wondering if it would be up to him ultimately to stop what would undoubtedly be an enormous mistake.


	23. Fallout

_Fin's side waits to find out the consequences of their rebuttal to Turner's allegations. Brian and Justin reconnect with Sean and Kathy. _

* * *

_Last Chapter..._

_As he watched Tony and Fin embrace as well and Brian Kinney bestowing a brief kiss on Justin Taylor's lips, Adam Stewart's face contorted with anger and contempt over their arrogant display of public affection. __So much for conducting themselves in 'private,' he couldn't help silently thinking. His hands clenched into fists at his side as he turned his face away from the sickening sight, not wanting to show his hand just yet. He was anxious to contact Turner's team to make sure they were aware of everything that had transpired this afternoon and to find out just what the hell they were going to do about it. For the first time, he was beginning to doubt whether Turner could accomplish what he had set out to do; after what had just been divulged the man would be hard pressed to squirm out of this debacle intact. HE was going to be the one needing to do a lot of explaining now._

_Taking a deep breath, he turned around to stomp off in the opposite direction, seeking a private space where he could make his call. He glanced back one more time at the two smug-looking couples embracing each other before, with a disgusted shake of his head, he hurried off the stage, wondering if it would be up to him ultimately to stop what would undoubtedly be an enormous mistake._

* * *

Tony swept his partner up into a fierce hug as soon as he was out of camera range, not caring whether anyone saw them or not but wanting to let him know how proud he was of him. "You were great," he whispered in Fin's ear, his cheek against him. "I've never been more proud to be your partner than I am right now."

Fin hugged Tony tightly, feeling the stress of the day's events quickly ebbing away. Tony was his lifeline, his ballast, his complement. He was so thankful that his partner was here with him, and hadn't given up on their relationship when he had been so stubborn about revealing their true status to the public. How far they had come in that regard since that day. He pulled back to stare into Tony's face as he teased him, "You just get horny when I get all fired up."

Tony smirked. "Well, that's part of it." His face sobered as he turned around slightly and noticed a familiar pair of faces standing several feet away; he exchanged an odd sort of look with Justin who was standing next to Brian, his arm draped around his husband's waist.

Fin followed his line of vision as he let him go, observing two uniformed men standing near the back door. "What?" he asked his partner curiously, noticing the look of disgust on his face. "What's wrong?"

Tony hesitated as he looked over at Justin again. He wasn't sure if it was necessary to get into what had happened between the two security guards; Fin already had enough on his mind at the moment. The two men hadn't come right out and voiced their opinion about their sexuality, but then again he had seen enough bigotry in his day to know it when he saw it. And he knew that Justin felt the same way. Those guards hadn't prevented them from entering the back doors simply out of caution; there had been more to it than that. He sighed. Yes, his partner had a lot on his mind, but wasn't this type of prejudice part of the reason why he was running in the first place? Justin nodded at him in silent encouragement for him to continue as he asked Fin, "Those two security guards over there...Do they work for you or did Don hire them just for this event?"

Fin frowned. "They're not part of my normal security contingent," he confirmed. "Don was a little concerned about having enough protection today because of all the controversy that's been generated lately, so he went through a company he's worked with in the past to bring in some additional men. Why?"

Tony nodded as he explained, "Well, we had to go in through the front doors along with the press and the general public. That's why we wound up being late."

"Why?" Brian asked in concern. "You were supposed to come in through the back by the stage area." He knew how skittish Justin still was about being jostled by crowds; that had been the main reason why he had made sure to tell Justin to have the guards let them in through the back way.

"I know," Tony told him and Fin. "We tried to, but we couldn't."

Fin pursed his lips together in puzzlement. Tony normally didn't beat around the bush, but he had the distinct impression he was doing precisely that at the moment and not telling him everything. "Tony...if there's some specific type of problem with them Don needs to know about it."

Tony sighed as he glanced over at his friend. "Well, when Justin and I tried to come in through the back door, they wouldn't let us in."

Brian looked at Justin as he asked, "Didn't you explain who you were?"

Justin nodded. "We tried, but they wouldn't believe us. And when we asked if one of them would go get one of Fin's staff to verify it, they refused."

Brian's eyes darkened in anger as he looked over at the two guards. "Did they say why?" Justin was silent for a moment, raising Brian's suspicion as he pressed, "Justin?"

His partner sighed. "They didn't come out and say so in so many words, but it's very simple, Brian. They didn't want to help us because we're queer and they don't like fags."

"Did they say that?" Fin asked, his voice clipped.

"They didn't have to, Fin," Tony told him quietly as he gripped his arm. "It was written all over their faces and in their condescending tone of voice."

Brian's eyes darkened in fury. "Those bigoted assholes! Isn't it bad enough we have to put up with that bullshit from Turner's camp?" His face reddened at the thought of Justin having to be subjected to an unnecessary ordeal out in the crowd for nothing; that explained why he hadn't been up on the stage where he was supposed to be. "I'll take care of that right now!" he growled as he began to walk away.

Justin quickly reached out to grab his sleeve. "Brian, don't! Let Don take care of it!"

"The hell I will!" Brian roared as he stared daggers over at the two security men who had their backs to him and were oblivious to his wrath. "We don't need that kind of _stupidity!_" He tried to wrench his sleeve away from Justin, but his husband was surprisingly strong. "Justin, let go of me, damn it!"

"No, Brian!" Justin told him forcefully. "There's still press milling around here. The last thing we need is some kind of big scene to be broadcast all over the web and national news networks! _O'Connor's campaign manager son knocks too men unconscious in a fist fight: _They would eat that up!" he told him. Taking a deep breath and letting it out, he lowered his voice to avoid attention as he pleaded, "Brian, please. Tony and I are fine; they were pricks, but nothing happened. I agree they need to have their asses fired, but let Don take care of it; that's his job. Don't get either yourself or Fin in the middle of it; that's just what Turner's camp would want right now and you've got him running scared already. Don't do anything to jeopardize that."

Brian huffed out an angry breath as he brushed his hand restlessly through his hair in agitation. At that moment he wanted nothing more than to go over there and cold cock both of those morons, but as much as he hated to admit it, Justin was right. They had had enough drama lately with Telson and Marvin's attempts at tearing their campaign apart, and they were just now gaining the edge. They needed to rise above all the muck and handle it the right way, as much as it fucking killed him. He let out a weighted breath as he finally nodded. "Yeah...okay," he grumbled as Justin loosened his grip on him just a bit. He stared over into the intense blue eyes, lingering on Justin's face to steady himself before he admitted, "I was worried about you earlier."

Justin smiled at him tenderly. "I know. I could tell," he told him softly, remembering the searching look that Brian had bestowed upon him during the press conference. "But Tony was with me the whole time. And I'm just fine - now that I'm with _you_."

Tony and Fin exchanged a look as the tender interplay before Fin cleared his throat. "Uh...if you'll excuse me, I have a certain security man to go find before our two nominees for the Moron of the Year Award get away." He looked at his partner. "Why don't you come with me? I think it's important Don hear about this directly."

Tony nodded. "We can meet you back at the RV if you want," he told Brian and Justin. He sensed that Justin was anxious to get out of there, and now that he was with Brian he knew he would be well taken care of.

Justin let out a tense-filled breath as Brian lightly feathered the hair at the back of his neck in a comforting sort of gesture. "Yeah...that sounds pretty good about now," he admitted as he looked over at his husband. "Do you need to stay here for anything?"

Brian briefly thought it might be wise for him (as the center of attention today as well as Fin's campaign manager) to stick around, but he figured Mark Leon and the rest of Fin's entourage could handle the press for now. Their next step would be determined by what Turner decided to do with the information they had disclosed earlier at the rebuttal, so it was partly a waiting game now anyway. "No," he told him softly as he ruffled Justin's hair affectionately. "Let me just tell Mark where I am in case he needs me, okay?"

Justin nodded as the others walked away briefly. He watched Brian approach Mark, Fin's speechwriter, and talk to him quietly before Mark nodded and Brian returned to his side. Brian took his hand firmly, almost daring anyone to question it, as the two of them walked toward the back stage exit door, now thankfully barren of anyone except for a couple of other security guards who simply acknowledged them with a polite nod as they opened the door to let them out. Justin breathed a soft sigh of relief as they walked out into the darkening night, now much cooler than when they had entered earlier. He shivered in reaction as Brian released his hand to place it on his shoulder and pull him close.

"Cold?" he asked softly.

Justin nodded. "A little," he admitted as Brian tightened his hold around his shoulder a little more. The gravel crunched slightly under their feet, the glare of the mobile camera trucks intruding into the nighttime atmosphere. They could hear the murmuring of voices around front, no doubt the reporters revealing the details of what had transpired earlier, as they walked slowly toward the secured RV, a soft glow radiating from the inside where the overhead oven light had been left on. Justin was thankful that this area was cordoned off, because the last thing he wanted right now was to run into a pack of media jackals waiting to pounce on them. Soon they had reached the relative privacy of the RV, Brian punching in the four-digit code for them to enter.

Justin sighed as he walked over and plopped down on the leather couch, feeling mentally drained. They had gone from the depths of anger and shock to a feeling of quiet vindication all in one day, and while he was glad that Brian had effectively stood up to Turner's accusations, he was feeling decidedly weary at the moment.

Brian walked over to join him just as his cellphone rang. Cursing at the timing since he was craving a little relaxation time with Justin, he flipped it open, not recognizing the number. He hesitated as to whether to answer it or not, fearing it might be some obstinate member of the media that had managed to sniff out his personal cellphone number. But he also knew as Fin's campaign manager that he had to be available at all times, so reluctantly he brought the phone up to his ear. "Kinney."

"Brian?" was the cultured, female inquiry. "It's Kathy."

Brian looked over at Justin as he replied, "Kathy. This is a nice surprise." Justin's eyebrows rose at the mention of Brian's grandmother. "How are you and Sean?"

Curled up in her favorite, burnt-orange recliner with her poodle, Butterscotch, lying in her lap, she smiled. "I'm fine. Sean and Gus just got back from their fishing trip and are unloading the car - third expedition of the week, I should add." She laughed. "I know fish is supposed to be healthy for you, but there's only so many ways I can cook wide-mouthed bass; last night it was croquettes."

Brian chuckled as he placed the phone on speaker status so Justin could hear; he couldn't help smiling at the thought of his son and grandfather on yet another fishing jaunt. Once Gus had gone out on his great-grandfather's boat that one day, he and Sean had become fast buddies. Gus took great delight in catching fish, and had become quite adept at it actually, so Sean had found just the perfect way to connect with him and put him at ease. "Kathy, I'm putting you on speakerphone so Justin can hear, too," he told her.

"Justin! How ARE you, Honey?" Kathy asked. She had quickly grown to admire the young man who had first appeared on their doorstep unexpectedly several months ago to tell them they about their now grown-up grandson and a great grandson they didn't even know existed. They had been a little startled to find out that this earnest-looking, courageous young man was their grandson's fiancé at the time, but after their initial shock they had welcomed both Justin and Brian with open arms, finding delight in getting acquainted with their only daughter's child and his son, and had even attended their eventual wedding.

Justin smiled at the warm tone of Kathy's voice; after today's hatred and bigotry, it was a welcome, refreshing change and a balm to his weary soul. "I'm fine, Kathy," he told her with a smile. "I take it Gus is having a good time there?"

She laughed. "Well, I think Sean's wearing him out! It's debatable which one is having the better time - him or Gus! Sean knows I hate to go fishing, so he's ecstatic to finally find a willing fishing buddy; believe me, he's on Cloud Nine. And don't get me wrong; I'll be insisting on fixing pot roast tomorrow for dinner, but I'm just as excited to have Gus here with us, too. He's a great little boy, Brian."

Brian's heart skipped at the mention of his son; for a moment he wondered if this call was more than a coincidence. He looked over at Justin who seemed to be thinking the same thing as he replied softly, "Yeah...he is. And he thinks the world of both of you, you know. I have a feeling someone is spoiling him to death, though."

"I won't deny it," she said with an easy chuckle. There was a brief pause before Kathy said more softly, "Brian, before Gus and Sean come in from unloading the car, I want you to know that I saw the press conference earlier with those men - and I saw the one later with you and Fin."

Brian swallowed hard as he felt Justin quietly grip his wrist. "You did?" Brian asked, his voice shaking just a bit over fear that this woman he had grown quite fond of might be ashamed or disappointed in him. To anyone else, the slight inflection in Brian's tone of voice would have gone undetected but Justin picked up on it instantly. He slowly rubbed Brian's wrist reassuringly as Kathy answered simply, "Yes.". Brian was about to ask her what she thought about it when she added, "You really were quite the free spirit back then, weren't you?" To Brian's relief, the question didn't seem to be accusatory in nature; it sounded more like she was curious than anything else.

"Free spirit?"

"Yes," she answered. "You were rather..._Unorthodox_ in your business relationships."

Brian smirked in spite of himself at her unusual choice of words. "Well, I guess that's one way to put it." He paused for a moment before he ventured to ask, almost sounding like a little, vulnerable boy rather than the confident, self-assured man he normally was. "Are you disappointed in what you heard about me, Kathy? You DID believe me, didn't you?"

There was another pause for a few seconds, Brian's heart unexpectedly in his throat before he heard his grandmother tell him, "What WOULD have disappointed me, Brian, was if you hadn't knocked those two idiots down a peg like they deserved," she told him firmly. "I mean - I can't say I really understand all that went on, but I'm not surprised that you were a little 'footloose and fancy free' back then shall we say. Fin was always the ladies' man in high school; that's how he caught our Lydia's eye after all. And you certainly take after him. You're quite a looker, if I do say so myself."

Justin had to smile at that as she continued, "I knew what they were saying was a bunch of B.S. You wouldn't need to force yourself on _anyone_; that is totally absurd. I was glued to the T.V. when you and Fin came on afterward though; I KNEW both of you wouldn't just let that go by without fighting back. I just find it hard to believe that a so-called respected politician would stoop so low as to bribe someone to smear your name just to get himself elected. The only thing he's accomplished now is to ruin any chance he had of waging a fair campaign. Surely he won't be able to stay in the race now?"

Brian let out a relieved breath through partly open lips, so glad that his grandmother hadn't believed what Telson and Thomas had said about him. He still found it hard to believe that he actually had family that _believed _in him - that is, apart from Justin. His husband clamped his hand on his shoulder as he replied, "No, I don't see any conceivable way he can stay in the race now, not if the other party wants to have any possible chance of fielding a viable candidate before the election in November. I'm no politician, but I think they'll be hard pressed to replace him with a serious candidate in time to do them a lot of good. They'll have to come up with someone who has a pretty damn good track record and experience to even have a snowball's chance in hell of coming out victorious."

He could hear a distinctive harrumph from the other end of the line as Kathy said, "Well, if that happens they got exactly what they deserved. What a bunch of idiots!"

Brian chuckled at her unexpected reply as he grinned over at Justin like a fool; he hadn't realized until just that moment how much his grandparents' support would mean to him. "I couldn't have said it better," he told her softly. "Your support means more to me than you know, Kathy."

"Well, don't forget, young man," she told him firmly. "I believe in you - and so does Sean. He probably doesn't know what even happened today, being out on the boat with Gus and all. When he goes fishing, nothing else matters except the fish, the sun, and spoiling your little boy rotten. And I'm sure if he happened to turn on the radio and started to hear anything about that trash, he would have turned it off so Gus didn't hear. But don't you worry; you tell Fin that when - not IF, mind you - WHEN he wins this election I expect an invitation to the Governor's mansion for one of those outlandish dinners I'm always hearing about it. And Justin?"

"Yes, Ma'am."

"When you and Brian get home I expect a visit to Johnstown so I can fix you my famous meatloaf. You got that?"

Justin smiled. "I got it, Kathy. And thanks."

She grunted in affirmation as she said, "Just in time, too; there's someone here I think would like to talk to you. Hang on." There was a muffled conversation in the background before a voice piped up on the other end. "_Daddy_!"

Brian's face lit up as he answered. "Hey! How's my Sonny Boy? You and your great granddad been out fishing today?"

"Sean, don't you dare leave those smelly things there!" Brian heard his grandmother retort in the background as Gus excitedly told him, "You should see them, Daddy! Me and grandpa caught a big bunch! But mine was the biggest!"

Brian looked over at Justin and grinned as he answered, his voice tender and loving, "It was? How big?"

"REAL big!" Gus shouted as Justin chuckled. "Grandpa called it a whopper!"

"Well, that must be a really big one, then! Is your grandma going to cook it up for you?"

"No, Daddy," was the mournful reply.

Brian frowned. "Why not, Gus?"

"I couldn't EAT him!" he told his father. "He...he looked so sad on that hook. I had to let him go."

Brian covered his mouth with his hand even though his son couldn't see the smile on his face. It appeared that his husband wasn't the only sentimental one in the family. "That was very thoughtful of you, Sonny Boy," he told him. "I'm sure the fish was really glad when you did that."

"He got away really fast, Daddy," Gus told him as he nodded his head, his little chubby hand gripped around the landline phone receiver. "He looked very happy," he decided as he animatedly proceeded to tell his father all about his and his great grandfather's latest fishing expedition.

Kathy quietly took hold of Sean's arm and led him - and the fish basket - into the kitchen as Gus and Brian carried on their conversation to explain what had happened in his absence; she did not want to risk their great grandson overhearing what she had to tell him.

Sean placed the basket down in the kitchen sink as he noticed the odd look on his wife's face. "What is it?" he asked in concern. "Is something wrong?"

Kathy took his arm by the bicep and led him over to their laminate kitchen table. "Sit down, Honey. There's something you need to know and we don't have much time."

Brian was finishing up his conversation with his son ten minutes later when he turned at the sound of the RV's door being opened; Tony hoisted himself up the steps, followed by Fin. As he closed the door and locked it behind him, Fin immediately headed toward the coffeemaker to pour a couple of big mugs full as Tony walked over and sat down beside Justin.

"Daddy?"

"Yeah, Sonny Boy?"

"When are you coming home?"

Brian's heart melted. "It won't be long now, Buddy. I promise." He and Fin had actually intended on the road trip lasting at least one more week, but recent events had changed that. Until they knew who their adversary was going to be, he didn't think it was critical to continue with the town hall meetings. He hadn't talked yet, though, to either his father or the rest of their entourage. He figured they would all be regrouping first thing in the morning, hopefully after they received some sort of word as to whom Fin's new opponent would be. Whether Turner would, indeed, suspend his campaign after falling so far from grace or try to foolishly carry on was still open to debate, but if the man - and his party - had a lick of sense that is exactly what he would do. How fast it would occur, though, and how quickly his replacement would be chosen was still in question.

He turned his attention back to his son as he told him, "As soon as Justin and I get back, why don't we all go to the zoo?" His son had recently developed an obsession for the temporary Komodo dragon exhibition; apparently it reminded him of a prehistoric dinosaur, which was an ongoing fascination for him.

"Yay!" Gus cried out so loudly Justin winced from the sound. Brian grinned as his son said, "Okay, Daddy; don't forget!"

"I won't," Brian told him tenderly as he heard voices again in the background.

There was a sort of shuffling sound now as his son told him, "I have to go, Daddy; grandpa wants to talk to you. Will you call me when you get home?"

"You bet I will," Brian told him firmly, his voice softening as he added, "And Gus...I love you, Sonny Boy."

"I love you, too, Daddy. Bye."

Brian smiled wistfully. "Bye, Gus; I'll see you soon."

There was a pause of a few seconds before Sean came on the phone. "Brian?"

"Hey, Sean," Brian replied, having an idea what his grandfather wanted to talk to him about. "Sounds like you and Gus had a great time today."

Fin walked over and quietly sat down in the matching leather chair closest to Tony and wordlessly handed his partner one of the cups of coffee. He pointed over to the coffeemaker as Justin declined his offer with a smile.

"Yeah," Sean told him as he looked over at Gus and nodded. He heard Kathy asking their great grandson if he wanted to help her set the table; he waited until the two of them moved on into the kitchen before he continued. "Any time I can fish all day with my favorite great grandson it's a wonderful day."

Justin peered knowingly over at his husband as Brian reminded him, "He's your _only_ great grandson, Sean."

"Wouldn't matter," Sean told him with a laugh. "He'd still be my favorite." Sean's cheerfulness faltered just a bit as he got around to the main reason he wanted to speak with his grandson. "Brian, Kathy filled me in on what happened today."

Brian glanced over at Fin who had remained silent and unmoving. "Yeah," he told him. "I figured that might be what she was doing while I was talking to Gus. He's gone?"

"Yeah," Sean replied. "Kathy took him into the kitchen. Look, I don't have much time, but I just want you - and Fin - to know that we are behind both of you a hundred percent."

Brian swallowed the thick, emotional lump in his throat as he licked his lips to wet them. "That means a lot to me, Sean. And I'm sure it does to Fin, too." Justin's hand tightened its grip on his shoulder as he exhaled t a large breath of relief. "I appreciate that more than you know."

"Well, I just wanted to tell you to ignore those morons," his grandfather growled. "They're the ones that have shot themselves in the foot. And THEY'LL be the ones that will have a hard time rebounding from it. They just made themselves look like total fools now. What were they thinking?" he mused.

Jaw set with determination, Brian told him, "They were thinking they could get away with bribery to make me look like some desperate, inept pervert and it backfired. In my opinion, they've made a huge mistake."

"I agree. Surely there's no possible way Turner could stay in the race now."

Brian shrugged as he looked over at his father. "Not in my opinion," he said quietly. "But that will be their decision to make, not ours. For now I think it's a waiting game until they decide their next move."

"Well, they're done as far as I'm concerned," Sean told him. "Listen, I have to go," he told him regretfully as he heard Kathy calling for him in the kitchen. "I think dinner's almost ready. I...I just wanted you and Fin to know that we're on your side and we always will be, okay? Will you tell him that?"

Brian let out another ragged breath, still quite unable to fathom someone related to him that supported him unconditionally; it was such a departure from what he was normally used to. He glanced over at Fin as their eyes locked and he said, "I'll make sure he knows that, Sean. And thanks again."

"You bet. Tell Justin I said hello and give him my regards, okay? And you'll both have to come out to dinner sometime soon. Oh, and tell Fin I expect a full tour of his new digs come November, too."

Brian smiled. "I'm sure Justin especially will be looking forward to tasting Kathy's meatloaf; he wants her recipe, too, by the way."

Sean laughed. "I'll make sure he gets it. I'd better get going. And we'll keep watching the news. Stay in touch, okay?"

"I'll do that. Tell Kathy Justin and I will come to visit soon."

"I'll hold you to that. See you."

"Bye."

Brian flipped the phone shut with a sigh as he turned to look at his father. "I'm glad Gus didn't get wind of any of that," he told him as Fin nodded. "I wonder how the gang back in Pittsburgh is going to react to all this, though." He hadn't quite given that much thought actually, not with everything else to worry about. He wasn't too concerned about where their loyalty lay, although he suspected there would be a number of surprised faces back home after they discovered just how he had managed to extricate himself from the lawsuit with Thomas. There were more crucial matters he and Fin needed to discuss in the meantime.

He brushed his hand through his hair before he locked gazes with his father, noticing the drawn look on his face. "Everything okay? Did you talk to Don about those men?"

Fin looked at Tony before he nodded, his brow narrowing in disgust. "Yeah, we _both_ handled it." He held up his hand before either his son or Justin could protest as he explained, "I couldn't let them get away with that, Brian. Don't worry - the press were all gone before Don and I took them aside and told them in no uncertain terms what we thought of their treatment of both Tony and Justin. I told them they were homophobic pricks and they - and the security company they worked for - would never be handling any type of detail for my campaign again. And I _also_ told them that I would be sure to pass along my displeasure to all my colleagues back in Harrisburg, who might need additional security on a frequent basis." He smiled in satisfaction. "Their boss had called Don before the assholes even left the premises, but he was blowing hot air for nothing. Don told him he - and his homophobic employees - could all go to hell." He snorted. "He was a lot more polite than I would have been."

Brian nodded, impressed with his father's no-holds-barred attitude, so much like his own. "Good. We don't have any time to worry about those kinds of fucking idiots. If Justin hadn't stopped me..." He reached over to grip Justin's hand and give it a squeeze as he clasped it, feeling reassured by the warmth he felt there. _If anything ever happened to him again_...He let out a painful breath at the thought as he turned his attention back to his father, letting the rest of his statement drop. "I want to call a staff meeting for first thing in the morning," he told him, changing gears. "We need to regroup after everything that's happened today, and I'm hoping by then we'll know what Turner's camp is going to do. You're the expert when it comes to political maneuvering," he told his father in concession. "You think they'll make a decision that fast as to what they're going to do?"

Fin bit his lip thoughtfully as he finally nodded. "Yeah. I don't think they'll have a choice. I don't think there's any way they can regroup from this, not with Turner still in the driver's seat. But the real question is - who will be just crazy enough to replace him? After _this_ fiasco, they'll have to find someone who will be above reproach."

Brian nodded. "Well, there's always another not so bright bulb in the lamp who'll agree to do anything just to get their name out there." He snorted at the irony of his statement. "Look at good old Kip and Marvin; I rest my case."

"They did what they did out of revenge and money, Brian," Justin spoke up. "That's a strong incentive for anyone."

Brian flashed a lazy smile at him. "Yeah...almost as good as an aphrodisiac."

Justin blushed at the intense look he was being given as Fin cleared his throat, feeling like he was intruding on yet another intimate moment between his son and his husband. "Well," he said as he took a last gulp of his rather rancid coffee, "I think I'd better quit drinking any more of this or I'll be up all night. I think I could use a shower." He glanced over at Tony as he asked softly, "Care to join me?"

Now it was Tony's turn to blush at the tone of his lover's voice as he placed his own cup down on the coffee table and nodded. As he stood up and Fin took his hand, Justin asked them, "I can fix us something light for dinner if you want."

Tony and Fin looked at each other before Tony nodded with a smile of gratitude. "Thanks - we'll be back in shortly and I can help you with it."

"Speak for yourself," Fin told him in a husky voice. He smirked at Justin. "Make it an hour; I need to work off some _stress_." Tony squeaked in surprise as Fin smacked him on the butt. "Move, Counselor!"

Justin grinned as he watched his father-in-law and Tony walk toward the back of the RV hand in hand before they disappeared into their bedroom. He sunk back into the couch cushion, raising his hands high above his head to stretch out some of the kinks that had settled in his neck and shoulders. He closed his eyes and sighed, dropping his hands to his sides just before he felt Brian's hands on his shoulder blades, gently but firmly kneading the aching muscles.

"Mmm...that feels good," Justin murmured in appreciation with a slight smile as he twisted his back to give Brian better access. He turned slightly to lean up against Brian's chest as his husband worked his magic on him, craning his neck away from his husband as he felt him nuzzling the tender flesh on the side with his lips.

He flushed as Brian whispered, "You're the best aphrodisiac there is." He rubbed his cheek against Justin's as his lips brushed across his skin.

"Brian," Justin breathed out as he reached his hands up to rest them on top of his husband's. "Don't stop," he whispered as he laid his head against Brian's chest. Brian continued his ministrations for several minutes as they sat there companionably, the silence only broken occasionally by Justin's murmurs of appreciation. Finally, once he was convinced Justin's stress was alleviated and his lover was lying boneless against him, he took his hands and slid them around Justin's waist, silently prodding him to turn lengthwise on the couch as he cradled Justin's smaller body between his legs.

"Brian, dinner..."

"It can wait," was the gentle but insistent response. "Just relax. Relax and let me take care of you."

"Brian..."

Brian's lips twisted up in one corner in amusement; Justin always had to have the last word. "I thought I told you to relax," he gently chided him as his lips glided over Justin's cheek and he rubbed his slightly-stubbled chin up against the softer skin like a cat.

"Mmm...I was so proud of you today," Justin unexpectedly murmured.

Brian's heart skipped a beat, just like it always did when Justin said things like that. He smiled as he glanced down at their clasped hands lying over Justin's stomach as he rested his chin on his husband's shoulder. "I'm glad you approved," he whispered in his ear as his lips glided over Justin's cheek and then proceeded down to his neck and he heard him sigh softly in response.

Justin always felt so loved and protected sheltered within Brian's larger frame; at that moment he wished he could stay there forever as he closed his eyes and just let himself feel Brian's touch, smell his strong, masculine scent and relish in his lips kissing him so gently. All of the stressful events of the day slowly ebbed away as he thought of nothing else but him. He turned his head as their lips met and he raised his right hand to cup Brian's cheek and caress it softly with his fingers. They kissed for several seconds until Justin finally broke it off and smiled as he looked into his eyes. "I'd better start dinner," he whispered a little regretfully. He gave Brian's lips one more quick kiss before he slowly extricated himself from his husband's embrace, their hands slowly separating as Brian reluctantly let Justin up, watching him under thoughtful eyes as he wandered over to the small kitchen area and began to rummage through the refrigerator to seek out some cold cuts for sandwiches.

After a few seconds, he sat up on the couch and twisted his body around to place his feet on the floor; he could hear the sounds of water running in the bathroom as he retrieved his laptop from the coffee table, curious to read the remarks of those members of the media who had been at his father's press conference, as well as find out if Turner's camp had decided on their course of action. If there was anyone with an ounce of sense left in his fold, the man would be gone by tomorrow. He glanced up and smiled as Justin wordlessly handed him a shot of Beam before he opened up his computer and got to work.

_Same time - Turner Logistics Headquarters_

Turner swirled the stout whiskey glass around in his hand before tilting his head back and downing it in one big gulp, actually welcoming the burn as it went down his throat. He slammed the glass down on his desk, a massive, oak monstrosity that he had inherited from his father. The way things were going at the moment, it might be the _only_ thing he owned before too long.

"Have you heard one thing I've said to you, Turner?"

Turner huffed in aggravation as he turned his head to fix his gaze on his surly campaign manager. "Why do you think I have this fucking migraine?" he snapped. "I've heard nothing BUT you talking since Stewart called here; how can I NOT hear you?" He glanced over at the television showing a breaking news scrawl across the bottom of the screen; after hearing three different cable news stations eviscerating him over his 'stupidity' in leaving such a transparent money trail that clearly, in their opinion, indicated he had bribed both Telson and Thomas to speak on his behalf, he had abruptly muted the sound, unable to turn off the screen completely but choosing to no longer hear the biting commentary being spewed out of their mouths.

The truth was, while Stockwell had been the mastermind behind the idea to have Telson and Thomas air their dirty laundry in public in hopes of discrediting O'Connor's son, it had been his sloppiness and naivety that had caused them to wind up in this incalculable mess. He had honestly thought that no one would be able to trace the funds that had been wired to each of the men's bank accounts from his former comptroller. How O'Connor's team had managed to do that was still a mystery, but obviously they had done their homework. Everyone now knew that he was directly tied into a huge amount of money that had shown up in each of the men's accounts just one day before they came here to speak. And now everyone _also_ knew that he was directly involved with it, so now he was even worse off than Kinney might have been. In fact, the damn fucker had managed to come out smelling like a rose after he had finished speaking.

Underwood stubbed out his latest cigar in the glass ashtray on the coffee table. "You may be _hearing_ me, Turner, but you're not listening!" he groused loudly. "I never should have gotten involved with your fucking campaign in the first place; I knew you were an amateur from the second I laid eyes on you."

Turner pushed his large girth back from the desk with an angry shove as he stood up and faced the other man; the veins in his neck stood out as he snarled, "I'M the amateur? YOU'RE the one who said this would take care of bringing O'Connor down, and now look what's happened! I look like a damn fool now, Underwood!"

The burly man rose from the couch with a glare. "Listen to me, you moron! I can only work with what I have! I can't help it if you're too stupid not to know how to cover your tracks! What were you thinking, getting your former comptroller involved?"

Turner let out an angry breath as his hands gripped the edge of the desk. He leaned over it to fix the other man with an irate stare. "I am NOT a career politician, Underwood, as you so often point out to me! How was I supposed to know someone could trace where it came from? Someone had to hack into that account to find that information out; Kleemeyer sure wouldn't have told anyone - he was one of my most loyal employees! It's not my fucking fault that I took your advice to do it; and it cost me plenty financially. And for what? I might wind up in jail for this! I've never even had a stinking parking ticket in my life! Do you have any idea what you've done to me here?" He huffed out an anxious breath as he brushed his pudgy hand through what little hair he had left. By the time this campaign was over, he might not have ANY left...

Underwood reached inside his pocket to retrieve another expensive Cuban cigar and his lighter. Flipping the top of the silver lighter open, he took a moment to light the cigar and inhale a calming puff before he eyed the other man unflinchingly. "Don't try and put the blame on me for this, Turner," he told him with deadly calm. "I didn't dig those men up; your buddy Stockwell did. I merely used what I was given to our best advantage. I can't help it if the other side was better than you and your own team. You should have covered your ass better, and then you wouldn't BE in this mess."

Before Turner could open his mouth to protest, he added, "And just for the record - if you even TRY to involve me in your shady doings and try to place the blame on ME, I'll deny it with my dying breath. You see, I'm smarter than you are; there is NO way anyone can trace any of that to me. I may have known about you having to pay those two lowlifes to speak on your behalf, but it would be your claim against mine about where that money came from and who knew about it. And let's face it, Turner; after what O'Connor and his son revealed earlier tonight, no one will believe a word you say now. Your campaign is as good as dead."

Turner closed his eyes briefly, his blood boiling over what had happened. He was a successful businessman, well-respected in his field and quite comfortable in his affluent lifestyle. He had been lured by a hope of becoming politically powerful and hob-knobbing with other influential movers and shakers in the world of politics, both statewide and nationally. Now it appears that not only was his campaign in ruins but his entire business career - and personal freedom - was also in jeopardy. What the hell had happened? He opened his eyes to look over at the cold-feeling, hostile face of the campaign manager he had never wanted to work with in the first place. He shook his head in disgust. "Then just get the fuck out of my office!" he yelled at him as the door to his private suite opened; his face turned white as he recognized two high-ranking members of the Pennsylvania Republic Party standing there looking like dark-suited members of the Mafia, along with a distinguished-looking man who looked familiar but he couldn't quite place. "I want you gone!" he shouted at Underwood, ignoring the firing squad standing in the doorway; he could see members of his staff milling around awkwardly in the outer room, no doubt waiting for heads to roll - his OWN head. "I want you gone NOW or I will call security and have you forcibly removed!"

Underwood chuckled in derision. "Gladly. I don't associate with _losers_." He walked over to the office door, stopping to peer into the eyes of a man he recognized as the state's Party Chairman. "The Grim Reaper, I presume?" he asked the man sarcastically, a tall, lanky man in his 60's by the name of Tim Rudd. "And not a moment too soon." He turned to look over at Turner, who was still tightly gripping the ends of his desk and glaring at him as he said in parting, "Hope you look good in stripes, Turner," the ashes from his cigar floating down onto the expensive, maroon, shag carpet. He smiled as he shook his head at the other man. "Good Luck," he told him before he quickly strode from the room and rushed toward the door.

Letting out a deep breath, Turner relucantly fixed his gaze on his new visitors, knowing what was about to happen and dreading it.

"Turner," Rudd said quietly as he and the other two men walked further into the room; the last man to walk in closed the door firmly behind him. "We need to talk."

* * *

_A/N: This chapter was so big I had to split it up into two chapters; I'm working on the next part now and hope to have the rest posted within a day or so. In the meantime, I hope you enjoy the first part!:) Thanks as always, Gloria, for watching my back.:)  
_


	24. Rage Unleashed

_Fin and Brian find out what who their new opponent will be; someone's fury and frustration reaches a boiling point..._

* * *

_Fin's Campaign Bus - Same Time_

"Did you hear that?" Mark Leon said as he and the rest of Fin's campaign staff listened to one of the major cable news networks issuing a statement that Turner's campaign was going to be making an announcement shortly. "Here it comes; Turner's about to go down!" he said gleefully, rubbing his hands together like some fairytale villain. "This is going to be so _good_!"

The others on the bus enthusiastically echoed Mark's sentiments as the volume of voices rose dramatically; they were all sensing the thrill of victory - that is, all but for one man in the far rear corner of the vehicle. Adam Stewart downed the last of his beer from the bottle, wiping his lips angrily. He had called Turner immediately after Fin had stopped speaking earlier, but had only been able to manage getting ahold of Underwood. The man had informed him in a condescending tone of voice that he had already heard the whole thing and didn't need him repeating it. Adam hadn't liked the man since the first moment he had laid eyes on him, and his patronizing attitude toward him merely cemented that opinion. Did the man not realize what he was risking by helping Turner out? No amount of money was worth the efforts he had gone to in an attempt to help thwart O'Connor's plans to be governor; he was doing it for much more than money. He was doing it to prevent a morally corrupt queer from gaining control of his state and to show his father how much he could depend on him, and Underwood didn't appear to appreciate his efforts at all.

Now, however, thanks to Turner's bungling and O'Connor's ingenuity, the two men Turner had hoped to help bring O'Connor down had, instead, merely served to destroy whatever chance the man might have had to gain the upper hand. He didn't have to know the details of what Turner's announcement would be; after what had happened today, there could only be one outcome. The man had to bow out before any chance of defeating O'Connor promptly went out the window along with him. Would there be enough time, though, to field a viable candidate against O'Connor's momentum? And could he take that chance that they could succeed? He sighed heavily, a gesture that did not go unnoticed by the man sitting across from him at one of the other small, round tables.

Adam looked over at Kirk Littleton, the blond-haired, 40ish speechwriter who normally worked in the same capacity for O'Connor in his Senate office. "Something wrong?" Kirk asked him curiously, noticing the deep scowl on his face. "This is great news!" he told him, no doubt thinking Stewart was worried about the status of their own campaign after the day's events; he was worried about it, all right - just not in the way that the other man thought he was.

Knowing he had to tread carefully for fear that he was risking giving his true feelings away, Adam grimaced. "No," he told him. "I mean, yeah, things are definitely looking up now," he told the other man, feeling a sour taste in his mouth as he said the words. "I just have a fucking migraine," he told him as the other man nodded sympathetically.

"Yeah," Littleton told him sympathetically. "My brother suffers from those all the time, so I feel for you."

Adam nodded as he pushed back from his wooden chair and stood up. "If everyone doesn't mind, I think I may head back to my hotel room for a while and go lie down. I can watch the announcement from there."

Littleton nodded as Adam began to walk away, not realizing the man's true reason for feeling so horrible. "Hope you feel better," he called out as Adam nodded and explained to Mark Leon why he was leaving.

A few minutes later, he found himself standing by the bus in the now quiet darkness; the coldness of the bus's steel against his palm oddly comforting as he debated what to do. He had no fucking IDEA where to go; he only knew that he had to get off that bus. He couldn't take one more minute of those smug individuals crowing over their achievements today.

Feeling all of a sudden like he didn't belong anywhere anymore, he finally decided to just take a walk; anywhere - he didn't care. He just wanted to get as far away from here as he could.

* * *

_Same time - Fin's RV_

Fin glanced up from the bed as Tony came walking in from the bathroom clad only in a dark, navy-blue terry towel hanging low around his slender hips. He smirked with a gleam in his eye as Tony stuck his tongue out at him; his partner knew exactly what he was thinking at the moment. It was a running joke between them - Fin seemed to be able to dress practically on the fly in ten minutes' notice and look like a million bucks; impeccably dressed, not a hair out of place, and gorgeous as hell. Tony normally took three times as long to groom himself and get dressed and he _never _looked as put together as Fin did. Tony's look was normally a little more casual anyway, unless he was due in court that day. But no matter how hard he tried, he always needed extra time to get dressed and he never looked as good as Fin did. That was certainly true presently; even though Fin wasn't particularly dressed up at the moment, the dark blue pair of jeans and the V-necked, long-sleeved gray sweater that matched his eyes were smart-looking and wrinkle-free, and his hair was neatly groomed with every follicle in place. Even the man's bare feet crossed at the ankles looked like they had just been treated to a pedicure.

"That's great news, Kirk!" Fin was saying on his cellphone as Tony walked up and sat down next to him on the bed. "Yeah...9:00. I'm sure we'll all have a lot to talk about then, too. Oh, and tell everyone thanks for all their efforts. Have a good evening; we'll see you then." He flipped the phone shut and placed it down on the bed as he turned to look at Tony.

"Good news?"

Fin smiled as he replied, "Well, I guess that depends upon which side of the fence you're sitting on. That was Kirk; he says there was a news alert on CNN that Turner's camp will be making some sort of 'announcement' at 9:00 p.m. about the campaign. Rumors are running rampart that he'll be pulling out of the race."

Tony nodded as he placed his hand on Fin's shoulder. "Well, that can't exactly be a big surprise to anyone," he observed.

Fin shook his head with a smile. "No...But I don't think it's where Turner thought he would be earlier in the day..."

Tony grinned back as him as he leaned in to say, "My, how the mighty have fallen..." His face darkened as he added, "The fucker got what he deserved. The only thing that really galls me is that those two liars are probably taking a sunny siesta somewhere with the dirty money they managed to wrangle out of him. They no doubt are holed up some place unreachable right now."

"Maybe," Fin conceded. "Although attention can be a powerful attraction, too; if some _other_ sleaze ball offered them enough money to talk, I wouldn't be surprised if they showed up again at some point. But I think they'll lay low for a while - at least until they run out of their bribe money."

Tony nodded, his face sobering a little over how disgusting and unseemly people could be when they had the right 'incentive.'

"What?" Fin asked him softly, picking up on his change of mood instantly. "This is good news for us, Tony. He's really fucked up his campaign big time now."

"I know," his partner said as his hand came up to lightly brush the hair at the back of Fin's neck. "I just can't believe how smarmy this whole campaign has become."

Fin grinned in amusement. "Smarmy? Such intellectual words, Counselor."

Tony smacked him playfully on the back of the head. "Stop it," he chided him; Fin was always kidding him when he used his rather large vocabulary. "You know what I mean. I'm not naïve; I know how down and dirty politics can be. But I've never seen anyone go to such lengths just to defeat someone who they feel doesn't uphold to the same _moral standards _as he does." He snorted. "For someone who's as _upstanding_ as he says he is, Turner has wound up being a Class-A scumbag; he's just like all the rest of the crooked politicians."

"Either that or the world's stupidest one," Fin said, his lips pursed together firmly in disgust. "I always thought of him as an astute businessman; I may have to rethink that after what he just tried to do. Maybe he just let other people influence him too much since he's not been indoctrinated into politics like most candidates have been."

Tony lightly feathered Fin's hair as he pointed out, "Well, you've been in politics for years and you're one of the most ethical and principled people I know."

Fin reached up to cup Tony's cheek gently as he stroked it with his thumb. "Well, I think your opinion of me is slightly prejudiced just a little, Counselor."

Tony grinned. "You think so, do you?"

Fin's lips broke out into a sultry sort of leer that went straight to his partner's cock. "Yeah," he breathed out in a low tone of voice as he leaned over and took hold of the edge of the folded towel which conveniently was separated in just the right spot. He gave Tony's cock a firm squeeze through the fabric as Tony's heart sped up in anticipation. "Fin...you just got dressed..."

"...And I have nowhere in particular to go until tomorrow. Whatever will I do with my time until then?" he asked innocently with a boyish smile as he waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

Tony laughed as he squirmed away from the probing hand. "You will let ME get dressed so WE can grab some dinner! I haven't had anything to eat in hours, and _you're_ the one who always complains about fucking me when my stomach's growling!"

Fin eyed him in amusement as he said, "I didn't hear you - or your stomach - complaining earlier in the shower."

"That was a blowjob; that doesn't count," he pointed out helpfully. "My stomach doesn't growl during blowjobs." Tony deliberately stood up with his back to Fin and dropped the towel as he walked over to the nearby dresser, knowing Fin was getting an eyeful and loving every second of it.

Fin snorted as his eyes slowly raked over the delicious curves of his partner's body. _Damn tease.._. "If you don't prepare your 'briefs' right now, _Counselor_, I'll be eating your ASS," was the warning as Tony smiled smugly. He quickly opened up the top drawer to retrieve a pair of whiteys and throw them on before he turned around to face his partner.

"Better?"

Fin looked at Tony's smirk. "Depends on your _viewpoint_," he told him as he stood up with a sigh of resignation. When Tony was hungry, he knew food would come first. He knew he would be a close second, though. Besides, a fully-fed Tony was usually a very _horny_ Tony later, so there were some advantages to giving into his partner's 'appetites.'

He walked up and slid his arms around Tony's waist. "Very well, Counselor," he told him in his best professional tone of voice. "Food takes priority first, then _I _come later."

Tony groaned at the cheesy line but grinned as Fin let him go and allowed him to finish getting dressed.

* * *

Justin finished up grilling the last of the ham and cheese sandwiches as Brian came up and slid his arms around him from behind. "Mmm...smells good," he commented. "The food, too."

Justin grinned. "Thanks...I think. I'm not sure if I want to rate up there with grilled ham and cheese sandwiches, but I'll take it as a great compliment anyway."

Brian smiled as he pecked Justin on the cheek; he let go of his husband as he heard Tony and Fin emerging from the back of the RV. "Have a nice shower?" he asked his father with a glint in his eye.

"Very _invigorating_," Fin told him drolly as his son looked over at Tony, observing the telltale blush creeping up on his cheeks. It was similar to how Justin would react. "By the way," Fin told him as he and Tony sat down at the kitchen table. "Mark Leon called me a little while ago; guess who's scheduled an 'announcement' at 9:00 tonight on all the national news networks?"

Justin finished placing the last of the grilled sandwiches down on a melamine platter with a spatula before he turned to look at Fin and Tony with a surprised look. "Already? What do you think that means?"

"I think it means he's dropping out," Fin told him flatly as Brian nodded in agreement. "I don't think there's any way he can still run successfully for governor now." Justin carried over the platter of sandwiches as Tony rose to take the pitcher of tea Justin was holding in the other hand and quietly place it down on the table, noticing it wobbling just a little. Justin gave him a smile of gratitude for not making a big deal over it as he placed the food down and walked back over to retrieve some matching plates and glasses.

"What do you think will happen now?" he asked his father-in-law as he took his place next to Brian. "Surely they haven't found a replacement for him already."

Fin shrugged. "Hard to tell; depends upon how pushy the GOP bigwigs are and how willing the potential candidate is to do it. Whoever agrees to do it, though, is going to have to walk a very tight line between appeasing the conservative element and not conveying such a narrow-minded attitude as Turner did. No one's going to win this election by ignoring one faction or the other. It will have to be someone who can appeal to both sides and be more middle-of-the-road."

Brian reached for one of the sandwiches, tearing off a bite and plopping it into his mouth as he questioned his father, "Any ideas who it might be?"

Fin shook his head. "No, not a clue. But you can bet I'll be watching tonight's announcement very closely."

"Both of us will," Brian vowed; he was determined that no one - no matter HOW dirty they played - would push him or his father out of the way.

* * *

Adam seethed as he watched the local news network announcing that Turner would be issuing some sort of announcement live at 9:00 p.m. tonight. That did not bode well at all; he couldn't think of any other outcome that might occur other than the man was dropping out of the race. Frankly it seemed the only option now to him, too; it galled him, though, to know that no one from Turner's office had even thought to notify him. It made him feel about as important as gum on someone's shoe. Did they not understand all the risks he had taken to keep them informed about events within O'Connor's group? Is this the way they thanked him for what he had tried to do? Ignore him and throw him away like yesterday's garbage? Now, thanks to their incompetence, he might have to act on his own to save him as well as the rest of the state from having a fag in the governor's mansion. No matter _who_ they might come up with, he couldn't imagine it being enough to save an embarrassing and humiliating situation like this one. Well, his father had always taught him to be self-sufficient; he wanted to make him proud. If he had to take matters into his hand, then, so be it.

He turned up the volume on the remote as the news anchor appeared from the 8:59 commercial break; a news alert flashed across the bottom of the screen with the words _Turner to resign from campaign?_ He watched in dread as the man began to explain they were interrupting their normal news broadcast to go live to Turner Logistics in Wilkes-Barre, Pennsylvania, knowing somehow that matters were quickly escalating from bad to worse.

* * *

Garish spotlights were shining directly into Turner's eyes as he stood back a few feet from the makeshift podium set up on the front stoop of his company, stone-faced and tight-lipped, feeling totally humiliated; was it only several hours ago that he had stood right here, waiting to introduce Telson and Thomas to the crowd in hopes that his campaign would receive a much-needed shot in the arm? Now he was being forced to stand there with a false smile on his face as his dreams were smashed to the ground.

He watched as Tim Rudd, the Republican Party Chairman, walked the few steps over to the podium and began to speak into the microphone. "Ladies and Gentlemen of the press, my name is Tim Rudd. I am chairman of the Pennsylvania Republican Party and I have been appointed spokesman for this announcement."

There was a steady murmuring from the crowd as he continued. "First of all, I would like to advise all of you that Mr. Turner will NOT be answering questions at this time. I will be making a statement first, followed by someone else who will be joining me shortly."

* * *

Fin huffed out an exasperated breath by Brian's side on the RV's couch. "For fuck's sake; can he be any more obtuse?" he groused. "Just fucking get ON with it!"

Justin had to grin at his father-in-law's statement; if he hadn't had his eyes open he would have sworn that Brian had said it instead. He laid his hand on Brian's thigh, not aware he was digging into his flesh as he waited along with the other three men to hear what Turner was going to do. The fact that he would not be speaking, however, could mean only one thing in his opinion: the man was about to bow out of the race, just like they thought he would.

"This morning, the Republican candidate for governor, Richard Turner, entrusted two men to speak on his behalf. He had hoped to pinpoint what he felt were deficiencies in the campaign of his opponent and to provide voters with the knowledge they would need to make a wise choice this November. That endeavor, however, failed to deliver the hoped-for results."

Tony snorted at the understatement. "That man must be an attorney," he commented dryly as Fin smiled at his remark. "It takes him several sentences to make one point."

"Careful, Counselor, you're maligning someone of your own ilk," Fin teased him as he continued to peer intently at the screen; he could hear Tony's small breath of indignation over being remotely compared to the other man, but he chose to overlook it at the moment.

"I will not try to explain, nor even address the allegations Senator O'Connor's staff made regarding these two men; that is not for me to analyze. However, after thoughtful discussion with Mr. Turner, it has been decided that it is in the best interests of the Republican Party if Mr. Turner step down from his campaign at this time to avoid any distraction or hint of impropriety that could result."

Turner felt his face redden in shame at the thought that he was being forced to slink away like some injured animal on the roadway. He wasn't used to feeling helpless in situations; normally in any business scenario he was bold, confident, assertive, and dominating. In the world of politics, though, he felt decidedly like a novice, even a buffoon, and he didn't like that feeling one bit. He could feel everyone's eyes on him as Rudd held up his hands in an attempt to quite the noisy crowd, wishing silently that the man would just get it over with so he could try and repair whatever semblance of dignity he had left. Even now, the thought that the Election Commission had called an hour ago to request a meeting with him for next week filled him with dread. He knew what they would be asking about – and he knew he would not have a good answer to their questions.

"Please...Let me continue," Rudd was beseeching the audience. He stood there in silence until the crowd realized he was prepared to wait as long as possible and they finally quieted down as he requested. "As I said, Mr. Turner has decided for the good of the party to suspend his campaign. That being said, I am pleased to announce an alternative candidate for governor. Someone who should be instantly familiar to every constituent in the state and who is well-respected and above reproach. Someone who has led this country before in times of uncertainty and turmoil and someone that I am confident can do it again."

Fin's mouth fell open. "Shit! They're going to introduce his replacement _tonight_?" He turned to look at Brian who had a look of astonishment on his own face. "They must be desperate to get him out of there."

Brian let out a breath of anticipation as he felt Justin squeeze his thigh. He turned to look at his husband with a "who knows?" type of look on his face before they all turned their attention back to the television and waited like everyone else to find out who Rudd was talking about.

"I don't believe it," Fin murmured as their new opponent stepped up to the microphone from the shadows and he recognized him immediately. "I thought he retired."

Tony frowned before the man's face revealed more of itself and his brows lifted in grudging respect as he, too, recognized him; after all, he had run into the man enough times coming in and out of Fin's senate chambers of the years. He immediately knew that this new candidate would be a lot more viable than Turner ever was. "Holy shit," he muttered as he and Fin looked at each other.

Brian shook his head as he looked over at Justin; the man didn't look familiar at all to him.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, I believe you all know Dean Whittle, the former state senator from Philadelphia." There was a certain proud, if not smug tone to Rudd's voice as the crowd began to murmur once more; it was obvious that most, if not all of the group knew exactly who the man was.

Dean Whittle had been a fresh-faced, newly minted graduate of Harvard University when he had been given a job in the Philadelphia office of the mayor approximately twenty years ago. His enthusiasm, intelligence, hard work ethic and quick wit had been an instant hit in the Republican mayor's office and he had helped him to obtain a prestigious position on the Philadelphia city council five years later. His innovative ways of getting additional grant money out of the state, as well as his steady leadership in what invariably would be stressful committee meetings, soon caught the eye of local party leaders who persuaded him to run for the State Senate. There he had spent the next twelve years uncontested in his position, taking over several chairman roles in strategic committees and proving himself to be a fair, even-keeled leader respected by both parties. He had maintained an incredibly high popularity rating over the years with his voter base, eventually having to reluctantly resign, however, when his middle-aged wife had contracted lung cancer and had died several months later. That had been over three years ago, however, and now the man was apparently ready to re-enter the world of politics again.

"You know him?" Brian asked his father softly; Fin nodded in response as his eyes never left the television screen.

The quartet of men watched as Whittle stepped confidently to the podium; he rested either hand on the shoulders of two teenage, blonde-haired girls standing next to him and flashed a set of pearly-white teeth that Brian thought rivaled Justin's as he smiled and began smoothly, "Good Evening, Ladies and Gentlemen. For those of you who do not know me, my name is Dean Whittle. I was the Senator from the great city of Philadelphia for over twelve years until I had to relinquish my much-loved post for something even more precious to me – spending time with my wife, who unexpectedly contracted lung cancer three years ago and fought a valiant battle for several months until she unfortunately succumbed to her disease." He paused for a moment as he seemed to choke up before he added with a smile, "These two lovely ladies on either side of me are my daughters, Meghan and Amanda, who have chosen to stand in support of me this evening in my new endeavor – to be the next governor of Pennsylvania."

"Those of you watching this broadcast and who are familiar with me know that I am a tried-and-true family man; that I believe unequivocally in marriage between a man a woman, and in conservative, traditional values. But if you have followed my career, you _also_ know that I am respectful of those whose beliefs differ from mine and that I believe that we can all work together for the greater good. I am very excited to be getting back into the political arena, and can't think of a better opportunity to bring this state back up to its former position of stature and influence than by running as the Republican candidate for Governor." A flurry of questions were immediately thrown at Whittle as soon as he took a breath and paused; the tall, blond-haired, bespectacled man held his hands up as his daughters flashed toothy smiles at the camera and he requested, "Please…no questions tonight. I will be happy to answer any and all questions soon. And I would like to challenge my former esteemed colleague and now my erstwhile opponent, Senator O'Connor, to discuss the issues facing this great state by participating in a series of debates to openly air our policy differences in a civil and courteous manner to give the voters in November a clear idea of our platform and our goals. I look forward to that, as well as catching up with a man whom I respect greatly. Thank you."

With a well-rehearsed wave of his hand, Whittle smiled and turned with his daughters to leave the podium, a red-faced Turner quickly following along behind them to enter into the safe confines of his headquarters. Rudd, the party chairman, spent the next minute or so laying out the schedule for a press conference to be held with the new candidate tomorrow afternoon at 2:00 p.m. before he, too, bade the teeming crowd a polite goodbye and entered the building, leaving the reporters to fire off reports to their respective media outlets.

* * *

_Emmaus Motor Lodge_

"Fuck," Adam muttered as he watched the new Republican gubernatorial candidate turn with his Barbie-doll daughters and leave the podium after speaking. The man was obviously a closet fag lover, he decided. He sounded more like O'Connor's fan club president than his opponent. "_Respect greatly_," he mimicked the other man derisively. "You're not much better than the coward you're replacing." He punched the "off" button on the remote, and in a welled-up fit of anger, threw it across the floor as it splattered into several pieces on the tile floor of the adjacent bathroom. His breathing labored from all the fury inside him, he balled his hands into fists and sat there, barely hearing the tick-tick-tick of the cheap, black-and-white clock over the dresser mirror above the pounding of his heart.

The sudden ring tone of his phone startled him as his adrenalin rose dramatically. He inhaled a deep breath and let it out before he reached over to the nightstand and picked it up. "Fuck," he snapped as he realized who it was. Taking another deep breath and exhaling again, he pressed the answer button and forced his voice to sound neutral, even 'interested.'

"Mother."

Regina Stewart smiled on the other end of the phone. "Hello, Sweetheart. It's been a couple of days since I heard from you, so I thought I'd better check and see how you're doing."

Adam rolled his eyes. His mother always treated him like he was three years old and didn't have any brain of his own, nor any initiative; it was part of the reason why he resented his current job so much - that and the fact that he was having to pretend he was one of his mother's employer's biggest fans when he detested the man and what he stood for. But now was certainly not the time to disclose that, not when there was so much that still needed to be done. "Everything's fine, Mother," he said in a barely-disguised, tolerant tone of voice.

From her position at home in her favorite recliner, Regina frowned, picking up on the clipped, curt response. "Well, for someone whose candidate just weathered a major challenge, you don't _sound_ fine."

Adam sighed as he leaned back against the headboard of the motel's hard-as-a-rock bed. "It's been a really long day, Mother," he explained. "Obviously you've been keeping track of all the events today, so surely you can understand that."

Regina considered that possibility, deciding that might explain her son's surliness. "Of course," she told him sympathetically. "It has been quite a day for Fin and his son. But don't you think they handled it brilliantly?" she exclaimed. "I am so glad that the Senator chose his son to be his campaign manager. I mean, for a while this morning it looked kind of bleak for them, but I think they are even stronger for what they had to deal with now. You can't beat the bond between a father and son."

For once Adam agreed with her, even though _that_ bond she was referring to had been born out of a distinctly perverse arrangement. He couldn't fathom how a queer could sleep with a woman and get her pregnant, only to find out he's gay later. That made no sense at all to him and merely pointed out the man's moral turpitude. And through research on Kinney he had found out the same thing. The man had actually had the gall to have a son with a friend of his!

Realizing he hadn't answered his mother, Adam hastily replied, "Yeah...you can't beat it." He sighed again. "Look, Mother, I'm really tired so I'm going to go. But I'm fine - you don't have to keep checking up on me. I should be back home soon."

Regina furrowed her brow, still not liking her son's shortness with her but her love for him overcome her concern as she replied, "Okay, Honey. You'll have to come over for dinner when you get back. I'll make you your favorite dessert - apple pie."

Adam shook his head and rolled his eyes again; did his mother really think that fixing his favorite dessert would solve all his problems? To him, his problems were just beginning now. "Yeah...fine, Mother. I'll call you when I get back to Harrisburg."

"Okay," his mother replied softly. "Give Fin my best and tell him and Brian congratulations on a job well done."

Clenching his teeth, Adam told her, "Yeah, I'll do that. Bye, Mother." He abruptly ended the call before his mother could respond with any kind of mushy farewell, placing the phone none too gently down on the mattress beside him. He brushed a hand through his head in frustration as he rose from the bed. Grabbing his key card, he walked to the door, determined to seek out the nearest available bar where he could get plastered and promptly forget the horrendous situation now confronting him.

* * *

_Same time - Fin's RV_

"Well," Fin commented as he pressed the remote button to turn the television off. "I expected Turner to shrink away in disgrace like he, but I didn't expect _that_." He shook his head in surprise. "I'll have hand it to Rudd, though; he went out and found a gem this time."

Tony nodded in agreement as Brian eyed them curiously. "A _gem?_ He's a Republican."

Fin laughed. "You say that like it's some disease. Dean and I were colleagues on several Senate subcommittees; we even got elected to the Senate the same year and got sworn in together. Hell, we even sat together in Senate chambers until his wife developed that nasty lung cancer. She didn't even smoke, either, and neither did Dean; that was the most ironic part." He was quiet for a moment before he added softly, "Poor woman lasted longer than I thought she would. But whenever I ran into her and Dean at social functions she looked worse and worse each time. Finally after about six months, Dean decided he needed to be with his wife Karen and resigned his position." He looked over at Tony. "Apparently once a politician, always a politician, though. And he's one of the best."

"He's that good?" Justin asked him.

"Well, obviously we differ on a lot of issues and how to resolve them," he advised him. He turned to Brian to add, "But he's vastly different than Turner. The man actually has character and integrity. He mentioned that he respected me. Well, the feeling's mutual."

Brian pursed his lips together thoughtfully. "Sounds like we might have a genuine competition on our hands, then."

Fin nodded. "Yeah...I think so." His eyes flashed as he added, "But I'd rather have this kind of fair fight than the imbecile they floated out to us before. I love a good challenge."

Tony smiled at him as he grasped his lover's wrist and reached over to give him a peck on the cheek. "I love it when you get so domineering," he whispered in his ear.

Fin grinned back at him as he responded, "Wait until later and I'll demonstrate on you," evoking a pink blush on Tony's cheeks in return.

Brian cleared his throat as he nodded. "I agree. I almost felt guilty about having you run against Turner. It was almost going to be TOO easy to win. Now we have a real fight on our hands and that will help to pinpoint exactly how your platform differs from the other side." Fin nodded in agreement as Brian asked him, "He mentioned debating; how do you feel about that? I personally think it's a good idea, because you shine the best when you're in those types of situations."

Fin smiled; feeling inordinately happy over his son's compliment. "Thanks," he said softly as he looked at Brian warmly; he noticed his son casting his eyes downward almost like he was embarrassed as he told him, "I agree. I was on the debate club in college; I've always enjoyed a good exchange of opinions and ideas. I should warn you, though; Dean's not offering to debate just out of the goodness of his heart; he's a damn good speaker, too, in those situations. I've seen him take a roomful of doubtful, even outright hostile colleagues in a senate committee and get them to do a 180-degree turn by the time the meeting is over."

Brian nodded. "We'll just have to make sure we do our homework well," he told him as Fin's phone began to ring. He watched as his father picked it up and frowned. He hesitated for a moment, but noticing the area code was from Harrisburg, his hometown, he decided to risk the possibility that a member of the media had gotten his personal number somehow and answer it anyway. "Hello?"

There was a soft hint of a chuckle on the other side as a familiar, male voice responded, "Fin. Still have the same old number I see. You always were so predictable, you burning liberal."

Fin laughed in spite of himself at his friend's 'nickname' for him. "_I _was? _YOU_ were the one who always had to have the same black cup of coffee and a cheese Danish every time we had a senate meeting." He smiled broadly in pleasure. "I can't say I'm all that surprised to hear from you, Dean," he said as he and Brian exchanged a look. "What took you so long? The press conference was over at least ten minutes ago."

Dean laughed. "I had to fight my way through my adoring crowd first to find a quiet place where I could call you. It's good to hear your voice, Fin," he told his friend sincerely.

Fin smiled, a genuine smile of agreement. "You too, my friend. I'm impressed, by the way. I didn't know the Republicans had such chutzpah to find a decent candidate in the bushes."

Dean laughed. "Well, they caught me at a weak moment. I was driving my two daughters nuts at home doing consultant work and they told me I needed to get a REAL job." He paused for a moment before he admitted softly, "I really missed being in the midst of all the action, Fin. I was considering making another run for the Senate next year anyway, and this just kind of dropped into my lap at the right time. It was too intriguing to resist, even though I'm not too thrilled about the circumstances. You know I always did have objections to the way the old Governor ran things, though, so I decided to go for it. They didn't exactly give me a lot of time to make up my mind, but it just felt right to me, almost like fate."

Fin smiled. "Yeah...I can understand that." He looked over at Tony as he said softly, "I think fate can play a major part in a lot of events." Tony smiled back at him lovingly as he turned his attention back to Dean to add, "Well, however they persuaded you to do it, it's a definite step up from Turner."

Dean sighed. "Don't get me started," he warned. "I want to maintain as far a distance from that man as possible."

Fin nodded. "Well, you're certainly an improvement over him," he reassured him. "What's this about debates? I'm up for the challenge; are you?"

"You bet. I'm as silver-tongued as you are, O'Connor."

Fin grinned. "We'll see. By the way, you're not going to be keeping Turner's campaign staff, are you?"

"Underwood and his cronies? After all this controversy? No way!" Whittle told him. "I'm hoping some of my old senate staffers will help me. If YOU weren't the opposition, I'd be beating a path to YOUR door, you know."

Fin smiled. "Not with my 'liberal' agenda," he teased him before he sobered. "At least I can expect a _clean_ competition," he added truthfully as he gazed over at Brian. So when do you want to do this, Dean?"

"End of the week? I need a few days to gather my troops. How about Friday night? That's normally a slow television night," he said with a chuckle. "Maybe that will help our viewership."

Fin chuckled. "I'll check with my campaign staff and have my son get back to you - how's tomorrow sound? I can't wait to hear the media feeds after today. I'd say you've definitely changed things up for the better now - I'm looking forward to it."

Dean smiled on the other end. "Yeah...It'll be like old times, Fin. Me, too. You have my number; I'll wait for your call tomorrow. Oh, and good luck - you're going to need it."

Fin laughed. "We'll see about that. You, too." He ended the call and placed his cellphone down on the coffee table. Turning to Brian, he told him, "Now we have some real competition, Mr. Campaign Manager."

The corner of Brian's lips turned up. "I figured as much. That's okay," he told him. "I like a challenge, too; it'll actually be a relief to have someone intelligent vying against us for a change. I thrive on it. It's when I do my best work."

Fin nodded. "Me, too. He wants to try and shoot for this Friday for the first debate. One advantage we have is that I know Dean Whittle's platform and philosophy well. I can give you, Mark, and Kirk plenty of background information on him and his record."

"So can he," Tony pointed out gently. "That's a two-way street." Tony had met Dean Whittle numerous times over the years; unfortunately at the time Fin hadn't acknowledged their relationship for what it really was, though, so Tony had been relegated to being more of an acquaintance rather than Fin's partner whenever they ran into each other. He had seen and heard enough, though, to know the man was quite intelligent, albeit very traditional in his manner of thinking. He was seen as a strong supporter of family values, which would appeal to the more conservative base of voters. And he was definitely more tolerant than Turner was about differences in lifestyle, although he didn't approve of homosexual marriage, for example. He would no doubt be an excellent alternative for Turner's bungling, however. He had to grudgingly admit - the Republican Party had come up with the perfect alternative candidate in a pinch.

"You're right," Fin told him as he stood up and walked over to grab the empty coffee carafe from the coffeemaker. He began to pour some fresh, cold water from the sink into it to prepare another full pot as he said over his shoulder, "Brian, up for an all-nighter? I have a lot to go over with you about my former colleague."

Brian smirked. "I'm always _up_ for one of those," he joked as Justin rolled his eyes. "Yeah. I think it's a good idea; we have a lot to cover between now and the first debate. Let me get my laptop and I'll start making some notes."

Fin nodded as he sat down at the kitchen table and waited for Brian to grab his laptop. A few minutes later with two large, black cups of coffee with sugar perched next to them, father and son began their research.

* * *

_Friday Afternoon - Television Studios of WHSB - Channel 8 Harrisburg  
_

Fin fidgeted uncomfortably in the tall stool of the dressing room, feeling decidedly foolish. He always felt ridiculous whenever he had to have makeup applied before a television appearance. It made him feel like someone competing in a beauty contest instead of a serious debate. The fact that Brian was staring over at him in undisguised amusement didn't help much, either. "Wouldn't you be more comfortable waiting for me out in the lobby?" he asked.

Brian grinned as the young, redheaded makeup artist began to carefully brush Fin's thick hair into place; she actually licked her fingers in an effort to slick down a rough spot as he chuckled at the unorthodox approach. "Nope," he said with an almost goofy grin on his face. "I'm just fine right here." He was sitting on another matching stool, his long legs dangling down in front of him and his arms crossed over his suit jacket as he watched his father squirm. Fin normally appeared calm and collected in front of the camera, so this uneasiness was something new to him. It was nice to know that even his father could be nervous at times.

"I'm glad you're enjoying this," Fin growled at him. "I hate having this pancake crap spread all over my face; reminds me of a joke with Tammy Fay Baker about her makeup looking like a ski slope - one inch base, three inch powder."

Brian laughed loudly at that one, causing Fin to also break out into a rueful smile. "That's very good," he complimented him. "Maybe we can work a comedy routine into your opening remarks tonight."

Fin grimaced as the young girl finally finished her job and, with a polite nod at the two strikingly handsome men, picked up her tray of brushes, sponges and makeup and quietly left the room, leaving father and son alone for a few minutes to collect their thoughts. They had seen Dean Whittle pull up in his black SUV a little while ago in the company of his newly-appointed campaign manager, a man by the name of Scott Reynolds. True to his word, Whittle had managed to talk his former chief of staff into leading his campaign. Fin had a lot of respect for the 30ish former chief of staff; he had had numerous interactions with Reynolds during Whittle's tenure in the senate and had found him to be quite organized and capable with a no-nonsense, hard-edge to him when it was warranted. He was sure the man had more than enough qualifications and skills to capably run his opponent's campaign. What he _didn't _have, though, was the father-son bond that he had with his own campaign manager. While he and Brian were still getting to know each other, he was gratified to feel them growing closer together each day that they worked on the campaign to reach a common goal – victory in November. For that reason alone, he was more than happy that he had been able to persuade Brian to manage his campaign.

"No, thanks," Fin responded as Brian grinned. "I'll be busy enough keeping up with him."

Brian frowned in surprise; it wasn't like Fin to not be self-assured and confident of his abilities. "You'll be fine," he told him firmly. "Why are you worried? You know his platform backward and forward, and your own ideas for change are quite sound. Just stick to your convictions and your own ideas, and you'll do great."

Fin's heart warmed at his son's words of encouragement. He nodded with a grateful smile. "Thanks," he murmured as Brian nodded back at him in acknowledgment. "I'm not especially worried," he hastened to explain. "But I _will_ need to be on my toes; Dean's extremely well-liked in the state and well-respected. He won't be an easy opponent to beat."

Brian peered confidently into his father's eyes. "Maybe not. But he WILL be beaten, Fin. After all, you have ME on your side."

Fin laughed. "Of course, I forgot about that." He smiled as Brian returned the smile. Sliding off the stool, Brian retrieved his father's black and gray pinstripe suit jacket from a coat tree nearby and handed it to Fin as his father asked, "Have you or Mark heard anything else about Turner?" Ever since the man had been summarily dismissed by his party and replaced with Whittle a few days ago, they had not been able to learn anything about the questioning he reportedly would be subjected to by the Election Commission. The members were sworn to secrecy and had already indicated they would not be forthcoming with any information until their investigation was complete. Both Fin and Brian, though, felt there was no way that Turner and Kleemeyer were acting alone in bribing Telson and Thomas. Their gut instincts told them that there were more players in this scandal than anyone realized.

Brian shook his head. "No. Mark and I have both called the Election Commission, but they're keeping a tight lid on it. Even Tony's pal Denny couldn't come up with any more information; they've frozen both Telson and Thomas's accounts and locked everything down tighter than a drum. You know Turner didn't come up with those two assholes all on his own. Someone else was in on this, all right; someone a lot more intelligent than Turner."

Fin nodded in agreement as he slid his jacket on, taking a perfunctory look at himself in the mirror and grimacing at the overly made-up appearance. He knew it was important to overdo it on the stage makeup to a certain extent so he didn't look washed out in front of the cameras, but right now he felt like a clown that had escaped from Ringling Brothers. "Pathetic," he muttered as he looked at himself. Brian walked up behind him as Fin scowled back at him. "I hate this dress-up shit."

Brian grinned. "You're right; you _do _resemble Tammy Fay Baker - or at least Tony in drag."

"I was afraid of that." Fin sighed in resignation as he turned to face his son. "Speaking of Tony, I'm glad you persuaded him and Justin to stay back at the house and watch the debate from there," he told Brian. "With it being a closed set and no audience, there really wasn't much point in them being here anyway."

Brian nodded. "I think after our road trip they were both more than happy to just watch from there; besides, Justin's been driving me crazy to get a tour of your house, so I didn't have to push too hard to talk him into it. While we're hard at work, I imagine the happy little house fraus are exchanging their favorite recipes as we speak." Brian hated to be away from Justin for any length of time, but now that the road trip was over he knew Justin needed to get back home to his studio. Yes, he could draw from anywhere, but he had all the paint supplies he might ever need back at Britin and it was hard for him to anticipate everything he would need on the road. As much as he dreaded any separation from him, he knew it was time for him to return home. He was hoping that he would only have to be in Harrisburg for a few more days, just long enough to oversee Fin's first debate with Whittle and make sure everything was running smoothly. Once that was done, he could start commuting a little more regularly back and forth between his home and Fin's headquarters. Justin, in the meantime, would use his company jet to return home tomorrow.

Fin grinned. "I know you're kidding, but that wouldn't surprise me one bit. Tony's always using me as his recipe guinea pig. Normally, he hits the mark spot on, but sometimes I think he's actually trying to poison me. Every time he uses almonds in something I think he's trying to sneak some cyanide into the recipe."

Brian snorted as Fin slapped his son on the shoulder companionably. "We really should keep those two away from each other for our own good," he commented dryly as Fin grinned at him.

They walked toward the door of the dressing room, hearing the quiet murmurings of crewman working behind the scenes to get the first debate between the gubernatorial candidates ready to commence for public broadcast. "Ready?" Brian asked his father softly as they walked over to the rest of Fin's staff who were standing off-stage, eager to see how their candidate does against Whittle.

Fin nodded as father and son shared a quiet moment together before joining the others. "Yeah...let's do this, Mr. Campaign Manager."

Brian felt a lump in his throat rise at his father's tender tone of voice and the warm look he was bestowing on him as he squeezed his shoulder again; it was a gesture of friendship, respect, admiration, and yes, _love_. He had been waiting all of his life for that sort of support from Jack and Joan Kinney before they died. He had thought that dream had died with them, but now…Now he knew he had been wrong. Now he knew he had just been waiting for his real family to show up. And it felt wonderful and amazing. Brian silently nodded back at his father, unable to formulate in words what he was feeling as he walked over to the rest of Fin's staff.

"Here're your documents," Mark told him as he handed him a small group of paperwork. It contained a few notes on policy and platform key points that he felt Fin should make sure he mentioned in his opening statements, along with a few reminders about issues he wanted to address at some point. While Fin was a consummate debater and quite passionate about what he believed in, it would still be easy for anyone to forget everything needing to be covered under the unrelenting glare of the spotlights.

Each candidate would be given three minutes to address the television audience in an opening statement and introduce their platform; they would each be standing behind a wooden dais with a small grooved lip to hold their paperwork while they spoke. They would take turns answering questions that constituents had emailed to the television station, and each candidate would have a chance to counter each other's points with a rebuttal of their own. The entire procedure would take approximately an hour for each session. Tonight each question would be restricted to those regarding the economy, so at least Fin knew for a change he wouldn't have to defend his lifestyle or sexuality. He wasn't afraid to address that issue, but still he had to admit that sticking to other areas for a change would be a welcome respite from the constant need to delve into his personal life.

Fin nodded as he glanced over them, Brian looking over his shoulder to double check them. "Thanks, Mark," he told him as Kirk walked up to their side. "I'm glad you put them in an outline format. As long as I have the key bullets to refer to that should be enough to jog my memory."

Brian had to admit as he stood there that he was impressed with Fin's ability to remember so many details and issues without having a lot of notes for backup. In a way, though, his father was a lot like him when it came to his advertising meetings. When he pitched a new marketing idea to a potential client, all he needed, too, were a few notes that he scribbled on his smartphone. Once he reviewed them before the meeting, he was normally quite capable of presenting the idea to the client without having to refer to it again. He had come to realize that his father was much the same way; that they were similar in a LOT of ways.

Mark nodded as Kirk joined them. "Here's what I came up with for your introductory statement," his speechwriter told him. "Of course you're free to extrapolate on it; after all, you _always _do."

Fin grinned at him, his lips curled under in amusement. "Thanks for giving me permission," he teased the other man as he smiled over at Brian. His son couldn't help returning the smile as Fin took a breath and let it out, seeing the director for the debate motioning to him. "Looks like it's show time," he told his staff. "Wish me luck. I'm about to 'whittle' my opponent down to size." His staff, including Brian, groaned at the corny joke as he smirked. "Maybe we should use that for a campaign slogan," he offered as they rolled their eyes at him. "Or maybe not."

As the others left to take their places off-stage, Fin turned to Brian to tell him, "By the way, I got a text from Tony a little while ago. He told me not to pick anything up to eat after the debate. Seems the little 'house fraus' are conspiring to fix us dinner together back at the house, just like you suspected."

"Little shit," Brian muttered good-naturedly. "He knows how I hate to eat carbs so late at night."

Fin turned to go with a final, parting comment. "Something tells me you'll work it off afterward." Brian grinned at him in acknowledgment as he walked away; a few seconds later, Brian watched as his father shook hands with his new opponent and former colleague as he, too, joined Kirk, Mark, Don, and the other members of Fin's elite group on the sidelines. He noticed with a little surprise that one member, his father's secretary's son, Adam Stewart, was standing several feet away by himself. He caught the other man's gaze, noticing a distinct hostile look on his face, before the antagonistic expression was replaced with something more neutral. He frowned at the unexpected angry look before he turned his attention back to the stage as the lights brightened and microphones were pinned to both opponents as well as the moderator, a well-respected news broadcaster from the television staff who was known for his fairness and lack of bias. Both camps had agreed to use Curt Shafer as the facilitator, their congenial agreement another marked difference between how Turner would have conducted such negotiations between the two parties.

As the two men began their opening statements, Stewart swallowed the sour taste in his mouth as he stepped back further into the shadows. He had almost slipped up before when he hadn't noticed Kinney staring at him and he had had to quickly disguise his true feelings over this turn of events. When he had heard that Turner had been replaced, he hadn't really been surprised; the man had been an ignorant imbecile from the start. The only redeeming factor to the man was that he shared the same distaste for queers that he did. He had even been hopeful at first that Turner would grow into his role, that he would distinguish himself from the putrid lifestyle that O'Connor and his son had embraced and become a bold alternative to O'Connor's liberal slant. He had begun to think that perhaps the man, with the help of his party cronies, would have enough backbone to defeat the other man in November. The more he had learned about him, though, and the more he had seen him stumble the more he had become convinced that he was becoming one, huge liability. Now, thanks to the man's ineptitude when it came to politics and how the game needed to be played, the Republicans had been forced to start all over.

While the man Turner had been replaced with was more than qualified experience-wise to be governor, Whittle's easy-going rapport with his former colleague worried him greatly. From what he had seen so far he and O'Connor were TOO chummy for his taste. They were so _gentlemanly_, so cordial with each other; they had even clapped each other on the back when they had first arrived at the studio earlier. What did Whittle think this was – a society polo match? Did he not realize what was at stake here? To him the election constituted either a return to decency or a trek into depravity. He had had high hopes for Turner initially; had high hopes for Whittle, too, when he had first discovered who the new candidate was.

Now, however, as he looked at the two men shaking each other's hands and smiling at each other, it made his blood boil. How did he know that this other man wasn't some closet fag, too? They even had their other hand on each other's shoulders, just like he had seen O'Connor do with his 'partner.' Just that word alone was enough to make him nauseous. He had heard of those types of perverts even participating in 'threesomes.' Was that what this would become - some sort of secret tryst between O'Connor, Whittle, and Cassinelli? He had heard O'Connor talking about him and his son going back to his house afterward for dinner. _How domestic_, he thought with a sneer. He swallowed hard as he glared at the two candidates, seeing basically no difference at all between the two of them. It appeared more and more like he would have to take care of this matter himself...

Brian watched with a proud smile on his face as his father deftly fielded the moderator's questions about the state of Pennsylvania's economy, nimbly rattling off statistic after statistic and eloquently stating his platform and his solutions to the current weak growth pattern within the state. Even his opponent, who he had to grudgingly admit was quite well-spoken and knowledgeable himself, was hard pressed to surmount much of an effective rebuttal to Fin's well thought out strategy for energizing the coal industry, the transportation sector, and the loss of manufacturing jobs to overseas markets.

By the time the debate was over an hour later, he was convinced that his father had more than surpassed Whittle in who had come out on top for the first encounter. They would wait for the actual poll numbers to be published first thing tomorrow, but he was confident that Fin had managed to triumph this evening. From his performance tonight, Whittle would definitely be a formidable opponent, but he was confident that his father would continue to forge ahead in the polls in the months ahead.

Standing by the dais, Fin waited until one of the studio assistants detached his microphone for him and he shook the moderator's hand before he turned to his opponent.

"You always were one hell of a debater," Dean acknowledged ruefully. "I should have remembered that before I agreed to go along with this."

Fin grinned as his friend placed a hand on his shoulder and gave it a squeeze before letting go. "Come on, Whittle! Don't give me that bullshit. You're not exactly a greenhorn when it comes to this type of back-and-forth discussion. You gave me a good run for my money tonight," he admitted to him.

Dean laughed. "Well, what I NEED to do is give you a good run for the governor's mansion. But don't worry - I'm just getting warmed up. The next debate is on social issues."

Brian walked up to the two men as his father was replying with a grimace, "Yeah, don't remind me. It won't hurt that you're on the board of so many charities. Don't rub it in."

Dean nodded politely at Brian as he told Fin with a grin, "Don't try that _poor little routine_ on me, O'Connor; you're just trying to lull me into a false sense of security." He turned to Brian to advise him, "He's very cagey. But I'm on to him."

Brian grinned. "I prefer to call it _creative_."

Dean snorted as he surveyed the two men who looked like bookends. Even if he hadn't already known, it was so obvious that they were father and son. During their time in the senate together, he had heard Fin wistfully speaking numerous times about how he had regretted never having a family of his own, so when he had heard his former colleague and friend divulge how he had discovered he had a son he hadn't known about, he had been very happy for him. He could tell, too, by the warm looks father and son were giving each other that they were forming a strong bond between them, and he couldn't be happier about it. "You two are just alike," he commented dryly with a smile.

"I'll consider that a compliment," Fin said as he took his hand and laid it affectionately on Brian's shoulder.

Don Meyers, Fin's security buddy, walked up to the group with Mark. "If you're about ready to go, we're going to head out, Fin. They're wanting to get prepared soon for the evening news broadcast."

Fin nodded. "Go ahead - we're fine here." None of the media or the public had been allowed to enter the television studios during their debate, so he was confident there wouldn't be any problems - nothing like the other day at their press conference. "Brian and I are about ready to go, too. We'll meet all of you back at headquarters tomorrow morning for the staff meeting."

Don nodded as he walked back over to the rest of Fin's group. As they were about to leave, he looked over at the lone member of their party who was standing aloof from the rest of them. Somehow that didn't surprise him, though; Stewart always did seem to be a lone wolf for some reason when it came to socializing with them. Personally, he thought Fin had brought him on board mainly as a favor to his assistant, Regina, who he knew Fin had a lot of respect and affection for. If it had been _him_, though, he would have kicked the spoiled, surly man's ass to the curb a long time ago. "We're going out for a beer, Adam; you coming with us?"

Adam pursed his lips together, his fingers curling around a cold, smooth object in his jeans pocket. "No," he told him curtly. "I have some other things to take care of."

_Just as well, _Meyers thought to himself. _What a jerk_. He eyed him intently for a few seconds before he shrugged. "Suit yourself," he told him. "We'll see you in the meeting tomorrow." He stared over at him a moment longer before he and the rest of Fin's staff turned to leave.

* * *

Adam pursed his lips together tightly in anger, watching the three men practically carousing before his very eyes. They were carrying on like they were old, queer sorority buddies, uncaring and oblivious to the image they were projecting. He could feel his entire body tensing up as he continued to watch them. He glared at Kinney, deciding it was all his fault. If the fucker's husband hadn't shown up on O'Connor's doorstep and agreed to be the man's campaign manager, O'Connor would have never agreed to run for governor in the first place. The man was vile, immoral, and slimy and he made no apologies for who - or what - he was; on the contrary, he seemed to savor it as he pushed his lifestyle on everyone else, whether they wanted to hear about it or not. He was constantly throwing it in everyone's face, from his disgusting displays of affection with his fake, fag husband to his constant swagger and innuendoes he liked to throw out at every opportunity. His 'holier-than-thou' attitude was an affront to everything he and his father believed in and he found it both repugnant and abhorrent.

His father had always taught him to stand up for what he believed in. _This would be his shining moment to prove to him that he had listened to what he had to say_, he decided with a smile. _Yes, this would show his father that he had his unwavering support. _His fingers reached for the narrow, thin object in his pocket, his adrenalin rising as he felt the coldness against his skin as he located his target and slowly took it out of its hidden cocoon. With a quick flick of his wrist, the object was fully extended and ready for use.

The three men continued to laugh and talk amongst themselves by the side of Fin's dais as Stewart quietly approached them. He noticed Fin give him a glance as he neared the trio, but it was more of a curious look than anything else; he knew that his boss wouldn't think it odd that he was greeting them. He WAS surprised by how empty their immediate surroundings were; apparently all the news crew had cleared out quickly to wander over to an adjacent broadcast studio to begin preparing for their late evening newscast, leaving them relatively alone at the moment.

Fin frowned as he noticed the expression on Adam's face, sensing that something was wrong but unable to determine why; Regina's son could be withdrawn and moody at times, but the look he saw right now was one of outright hostility and contempt. He turned away momentarily as Dean began to bid him goodnight, but he couldn't shake the sense of foreboding that occupied his mind. As he turned to face Stewart once more, he saw the glint of something metal in his hand and his blood ran cold as he realized in one, horrifying second what it was.

"Brian!" he cried in fear as Adam raised his hand to strike. A second later, the knife made contact with deadly precision and his victim slumped to the ground.

* * *

_Thanks to Boriqua522 for being my 'eagle eye.":)_


	25. Snake in the Grass

_A/N: I apologize profusely for the long delay in updating this. I recently spent five days in the hospital and am still recovering from pneumonia, a nasty staph infection in my blood and pleurisy which really threw me for a loop. I'm doing much better now and one perk of having to 'relax' is that I can write some more! Thank you for your patience. And thanks as always to boriqua522 for checking this chapter over for me.  
_

* * *

_Adam's victim is revealed as is his hatred of Fin. Will he go down by himself or take anyone else with him?_

Shocked and stunned with disbelief, Fin felt the sharp sting as the knife sliced through his shoulder and he fell to the ground from the force of the impact. He watched through a haze of pain as he observed Dean quickly grab Adam's wrist and give it a violent twist to pry the knife from his hand; it made a sickly sort of clattering sound on the hard, wooden floor as his political opponent and former colleague wrapped his arms around the other man from behind in a vise-like hug to keep him from doing any more harm.

"Let me go, you asshole!" Adam snarled, devastated that his plan to take care of Brian Kinney had been thwarted; the only satisfaction he was getting was from the knowledge that he hadn't missed his goal entirely. If he couldn't bring the queer son down, at least his actions had served to bring the queer father down. He continued to wriggle violently against the other man's grip, trying unsuccessfully to break away as he glared down at O'Connor and Kinney, who had dropped to his knees in front of his father. "Let me finish what I started!"

"You ARE finished!" Whittle growled against his neck as he squeezed the other man tighter. "What the fuck do you think you were _doing_?" He felt the other man trying to break away, but there was no way in hell he was letting him go. In college he had participated in a number of sports, including wrestling, and to this day he engaged in racket ball games and jogged on a regular basis; he was enormously grateful for the strength it provided him at that moment as he held onto the man for dear life.

"Fin!" he called down to his friend in concern. "Are you all right?" But there was no immediate answer from his former colleague, who was being tended to by his son. Brian had whisked off his suit jacket and was currently using it as a makeshift bandage to staunch the flow of blood coming from Fin's shoulder wound. He could see Fin grimacing in pain from the pressure of Brian's hand, but he knew it was necessary at the moment. "Brian?" he called out to his friend's son, but the man didn't respond to him, either; he only had eyes at present for his father.

"Security!" Dean Whittle called out at the top of his lungs. "We need security!" He wasn't sure if there was any security personnel nearby - most of the crew having left to prepare for the evening newscast - but he was desperately hoping that at least one of them was still around. To his enormous relief, after several seconds a man wearing a navy colored uniform with a silver security badge came rushing up to them.

"This man just stabbed the senator!" he told the surprised man. "We need 9-1-1!"

The security guard quickly studied the situation, noting Fintan O'Connor lying in a half-sitting position as his son tended to a wound in his right shoulder before he nodded curtly. "Better let me have him," he decided, hurried assessing the situation. "And you can call 9-1-1. Just let me get my handcuffs out first."

"Gladly," Whittle told the other, more stocky and muscular man, wanting nothing more to do with the bastard who had just committed such a heinous act. He held onto Stewart by his arms until the security guard could retrieve his handcuffs and place the metal rings around the other man's wrists before he shoved him roughly toward the other man as if he were dispensing with a distasteful piece of garbage. Adam tried furiously to pull away from the guard once he was in his grasp, but he found that it was futile against the other man's larger bulk. As Adam glared over at Whittle in barely-controlled fury for his part in his captivity, the security guard quickly unclipped his gun from the holster while still holding onto him with his other hand. Only when he had the gun out and ready to use did he relax his hold on Stewart.

As Adam made an immediate movement to escape, the guard immediately barked out, "Don't even think about it, or you'll have a bullet lodged in your back. Stay right where you are."

Adam's eyes blazed with fury, but hearing the other man's steely resolve he realized the man was deadly serious. His shoulders sagged somewhat in resignation over his failure to carry out what he had meant to do; the worst part of all was the disappointment he knew his father would feel over his ineptitude. The fact, also, that Kinney would get away totally unscathed created a sour taste in his mouth as he looked down at father and son and spit out, "Damn fucking fags."

Brian normally would have rose up and cold-cocked the son of a bitch where he stood over a statement like that, but his great worry over his father far outweighed his instinct to do that. Instead, he looked into his father's ashen-colored face and slightly cloudy eyes as he continued to support Fin's torso with one arm and press his jacket's material against the shoulder wound with his other. He knew it was best to keep his father's upper body propped up to help stem the flow of blood, but his arm was beginning to ache from the effort. He was determined, however, to stay precisely like he was until help arrived. He could hear Whittle calling 9-1-1 on his cellphone as he murmured to his father, "Everything's going to be okay. You're going to be just fine." He wasn't sure if his words of reassurance were directed more at his father or to himself, however; inside he was scared shitless that a major artery had been nicked or severed. He could feel the linen material of his jacket quickly becoming soaked under his fingers, but he desperately held on tight against his father's skin, praying help would arrive soon.

For a few horrific moments, time stopped as another unspeakable event rose to the surface, an occasion several years ago as he had knelt much like he was doing now, except it had been on a cold, unyielding cement floor in a dark, dirty parking garage instead of a brightly-lit studio, and he had been cradling the head of the young man he had managed somehow to fall in love with. To his surprise, the fear he had felt that night was very close to what he was feeling now - a fear of potential loss, a fear born of helplessness, a fear bred from things spun wildly out of control in a speck of surreal time. Those were feelings that Brian Kinney still felt distinctly uncomfortable with, feelings that caused him to examine his innermost self, and it made him feel way out of his element. His enduring, deep love for Justin helped him to accept and acknowledge those types of feelings - even outwardly express them at times - but to have the same sort of emotions swirling around his heart at the moment over the father he had never really known before was a startling revelation to him.

"Brian..."

He glanced down at the pasty-looking face of his father, his brow contorted in pain, and he pressed the jacket sleeve a little more harshly against his father's shoulder. "Shhh..." he whispered. "You're going to be just fine, Fin. Help will be here any minute. Don't talk."

"Tony..." was the ragged rejoinder.

Brian peered into his father's gray eyes and shook his head slightly; his free hand sought comfort in the steadily-beating heart beneath his touch at Fin's back as he reassured him, "I'll have someone contact him, but not right now; just stay still and don't move." He glanced up at Dean who advised him, "The paramedics are on their way, Brian."

Brian nodded his gratitude, squinting his eyes against the extreme brightness of the hot spotlights still shining down onto the studio floor; he wondered how such a seemingly innocuous event as a civil discourse between two political candidates could have exploded into such a horrific, surreal turn of events as his eyes fell upon Stewart's face. It was a face full of hatred and fury, eyes dark with wrath and scorn, his disdain for him and his father so obvious now. How Brian could have missed the man's true nature was a puzzle to him; he always prided himself on being able to read others, but when it had come to this oily slime he had somehow missed the mark completely. He locked gazes on Stewart, staring unblinkingly at him in a silent dare for the other man to look away until finally, he won the battle of wills and Stewart averted his gaze from him. Was it possible that his failure to accurately root Stewart out as a threat would now cause Fin serious injury - or worse?

He looked down into his father's eyes to find them staring back at him; he tried his best to give his father a soft smile of reassurance while he felt the burn of unshed tears in his eyes. _It should have been me_, he couldn't help thinking. _Not him_.

The sounds of rapidly approaching footsteps made him lift his gaze to observe a couple of paramedics rushing up with a gurney and two large, plastic medi-kits hung over their shoulders. Only when the two men had Fin safely in their control did he finally release his hold on him, but he caught Fin's hand and held it firmly as they began to work on him.

Approximately a minute later, two uniformed men from the Harrisburg Police Department came hurrying over to take possession of Stewart, taking him away for questioning with an advisory that the rest of the party would need to have their statements taken at the station later; Dean volunteered to accompany the policemen down to the station immediately to help describe what had happened. Brian spared Stewart barely a cursory acknowledgment as he was dragged away, the bigot's voice slowly becoming fainter as he continued to spout his vitriolic diatribe of 'homos and moral depravity' as the policemen took him into custody.

Taking a breath of relief that at last Stewart was out of their hair, he turned his attention back to his father. "How is he?" he asked the paramedics anxiously, noticing the men had Fin's jacket and shirt off and now had a large, white bandage wrapped around his shoulder and his torso.

"It appears to be a fairly minor wound," one of the men told him to his enormous relief. "But we need to take him down to the hospital to have him checked out to make sure."

Brian nodded as on the count of 'three' the two men gingerly lifted Fin up onto the gurney and laid a lightweight, white cotton blanket over him; Fin's pressure on his son's hand tightened slightly as Brian rose along with them, never breaking their grip. "I'm riding in the ambulance with him; he's my father," he told them firmly, leaving no room for discussion.

The same paramedic nodded. "Okay, you can sit in back with me; let's roll then."

* * *

_Shortly afterward - Fin and Tony's house_

"You must have cheated somehow, you fucker!" Justin accused his friend as Tony laid one more winning poker hand down on the living room coffee table and grinned smugly; remains of several recipes they had tried out earlier together lay strewn around the cards: spicy Thai glazed chicken wings, cinnamon pecan nuts, and Chinese noodle butterscotch candy to name a few. They figured while father and son were gone they would take advantage of it and have a good, old-fashioned high-carb pig out and they had been enjoying it enormously. That is, until Tony suggested they try a few rounds of poker, using quarters as the ante. Somehow, despite the fact that Justin always thought of himself as a pretty good poker player, Tony's pile of quarters was enormously larger than his was. "No one wins that many times without a little help, Cassinelli!"

Tony chuckled. "You sound just like Fin; he never plays poker with me anymore for the same reason - unless we make it _strip _poker. Then he figures either way he wins. But I'm an attorney, Mr. Taylor," he added in mock indignation. "I'll have you know that I don't cheat."

Justin laughed. "Pardon me; I stand corrected," he told his friend as he reached for another handful of cinnamon sugar pecans and plopped them into his mouth. "In either case, Counselor, you've depleted my quarter reserve, so I think it's time we call it a night." He glanced up at the clock overhead the fireplace and frowned as he realized how late it had gotten. "Speaking of which, I wonder what's keeping Fin and Brian? That debate ended over an hour ago; unless Fin has a legion of adoring fans congregated around him for autographs, they should have been here by now."

"Yeah," Tony agreed, becoming a little perplexed himself. Lately with everything that had transpired, it didn't take much for him to jump to conclusions each time something didn't occur as scheduled, but he tamped down the worry long enough to tell Justin, "I'll give Fin a call and see what's going on." Justin nodded as Tony flipped his phone open and punched in Fin's one-digit code to call him; he frowned as it went directly into his message system. "It went right into voicemail," he told Justin. "Why don't you try Brian?"

Justin nodded as he, too, flipped his phone open to dial Brian's one-digit number, also receiving the same response. His brow furrowed in concern as he looked over at Tony. "Now that's just fucking odd," he murmured. He could understand Brian and Fin both having their phones turned off during the debate, but it was over long ago; just what the hell was going on? "I'm sure it's nothing," he told Tony, not sure if he was trying to convince his friend or himself more. "They probably got caught up in talking to the media or something. Do you have Don or Mark's phone # stored in your cell?"

Tony nodded in confirmation; he was about to search for one of their numbers when his cellphone suddenly rang. Looking over at Justin, he brought the phone up to his ear. "Cassinelli." Justin watched as his friend swallowed noticeably. "That's all you know? You don't know how bad?" There was a brief pause before Tony's mouth drew into a tight line and he replied, "We'll be right there; if you hear anything else - anything at all - you call me, you understand?" He slapped the phone shut as he lifted his gaze to look at Justin.

"What is it?" he whispered, feeling a sense of dread suddenly washing over him. He almost knew the answer before Tony told him.

"That was Don Meyers; he just heard an unconfirmed report that there was a stabbing at the site of the debate a little while ago; story is there's been at least one victim transported to Harrisburg General, but that's all he's heard so far. The media of course is going bonkers at the moment."

Justin's mouth hung open in shock; of all the things he had imagined, this hadn't been one of them. "He doesn't know who..."

Tony shook his head as he stood up and grabbed his and Justin's jackets lying draped across the back of the couch. "No, and he hasn't had any luck getting through to either Fin or Brian, either." Handing Justin his jacket, he found his hand trembling slightly as he placed it comfortingly on his younger friend's shoulder and gave it a squeeze. "Let's not imagine things until we know exactly what's going on, okay?"

Justin licked his lips nervously, all sorts of horrible things running through his mind. Tony was right - they didn't even know if Brian or Fin was involved. It was just a wild, unconfirmed rumor, nothing more, nothing less. Why was his stomach churning in knots, then? He always felt like he and Brian had this thin, gossamer bond running between them, something that always told him if he was in danger or hurting somehow. Right now, though, that link was failing him miserably because he couldn't tell what was going on at all, and it scared the hell out of him.

"Justin?" he heard Tony softly call out to him as he turned to gaze into a face that precisely mirrored his own.

He shifted his attention back to his friend and nodded, pursing his lips together in determination. "Let's go." In less than a minute, they were out the door heading into the garage and on the way toward the hospital.

* * *

_Same Time - Harrisburg General Hospital_

"Well, you'll be in some pain and experience some stiffness for at least a few days, but I think the wound will heal nicely," the ER doctor was telling Fin, who was sitting sideways on the hospital bed, his long legs dangling off the side. The wound in his right shoulder had been patched with a large, white bandage after being cleansed and stitched shut; that and a matching sling holding Fin's arm immobile to prevent further injury was the only outward evidence now of what had happened a few hours ago.

From his place on one of the hard, chrome, padded hospital room chairs, Brian watched the interaction with a sense of both relief and guilt; enormous relief that his father was going to be okay, but tremendous guilt that it should have been him that was sitting over there instead of his father. If Fin hadn't deflected Stewart's knife at the last second, there was no telling where the weapon would have wound up. Something told him that Stewart hadn't meant to just inflict a grazing wound on him; no, from the hatred that had come spewing out of his mouth afterward, the man had meant to cause much more serious, possibly even lethal, damage than that. Only through the swift actions of his father had he been spared serious injury.

That knowledge made him marvel that someone would go to such lengths for him. Certainly Justin would have done something like that for him without question - of that he had no doubt. He had seen some evidence of that before when Justin's asshole of a father, Craig, had attacked him that one night outside the club. And he would most certainly do the same for Justin - had done the same for him - without reservation. But to have a father - a real father that truly cared, dare he say, _loved_, him enough to risk his own life over his without a second's hesitation? That was an awesome realization that was almost too hard to even fathom.

He turned his attention back to his father as he heard the doctor instruct him, "You'll need to schedule a follow-up appointment with your family physician in a week so they can examine the wound. And make sure that it's cleaned and redressed regularly to avoid infection. If you experience any fever over a hundred degrees or any redness in the affected area, you need to seek treatment immediately."

Fin nodded. "Will do, Doc. Thanks."

The doctor nodded. "I'll have the nurse come in with your discharge instructions and have her call transport to take you down to your car." He glanced over at Brian. "I assume you'll be driving him home?"

Brian nodded.

The doctor held out his hand to shake Fin's left one. "Good luck, then, Senator. Follow the instructions I gave you and you should be fine." With that, he gave a brief nod to Brian before turning and exiting the room, leaving father and son alone for a brief moment.

Brian stood up, wiping his hands on his pants, not so much because they were sweaty but because he found himself inexplicably at a loss for words for a change. He approached his father's side as he told him softly, "I'm glad you're going to be okay." It was a profound understatement, actually; after all this time of not even knowing he had a father in the true sense of the word and then coming within a hair's breadth of possibly losing him, words all of a sudden seemed to fail him. "How do you feel?" he asked.

Fin pasted a soft smile of bravado on his lips as he told his son, "Just a little sore and stiff like the doc said. I'll be good as new in a few days, though, probably even earlier if Tony the nursemaid has anything to say about it." His eyes suddenly got wide as he exclaimed, "Tony! My God, Brian, if he's heard what happened, he - and Justin - must be going nuts! We need to call them right now! Shit! I didn't even think about that!" He began to search around for his belongings, spying them in a large, clear plastic drawstring bag lying on another chair nearby. "Hand me my cell, okay?"

"I will, Fin, in a minute," Brian told him. "There's something I need to say first."

Fin looked flustered, knowing what was coming. "No," he murmured, feeling odd all of a sudden at the idea of being cast in the unexpected role of hero. "It's okay. You don't have to say anything." Brian wasn't the _only _one that was new at this father-son dynamic; there was no rule book on how to handle dealing with an adult son you didn't know you even had, much less one so much like himself. And the thought of being thanked for doing something that any father would automatically do for his child was foreign-sounding to him.

"No, Fin," Brian persisted as he stood close to his father, who averted his eyes from his studious gaze. "What you did back there..."

"Brian..." He felt his good wrist being grasped as he slowly lifted his eyes to meet his son's.

Brian gingerly sat down next to his father; the sights and sounds of the hospital ER dissolving into the background; right now it was just him and Fin. "We both know that Stewart was aiming for me tonight, not you. If you hadn't interceded when you did, who knows what he would have done? At the very least, it would have been me here with an injury instead of you."

Fin once more turned his gaze away to stare at the far wall. "I should have stopped him before he even had a chance to do what he did; it was my fault."

Brian's mouth hung open in incredulity; that was the last thing he expected his father to say. "YOUR fault? How could this have been _your_ fault? Fin, you most likely saved my life tonight!"

Fin let out a heavy sigh. "I should have been able to tell how he really felt. I knew him longer than you did and he always _did_ come across as a weird sort of loner. I should have seen this coming somehow and prevented it."

Brian huffed out an exasperated breath. "And just how the fuck do you think you could have done that?" he chided him. "Listen to me. I always think I'm a damned good judge of character, Fintan O'Connor, and if _I_ couldn't tell he was a loose cannon, you couldn't have, either, trust me."

Fin turned to cast his gaze back on the determined face of his son to persist, "But if I hadn't given him the job out of a sense of loyalty to Regina..."

Brian shook his head; the man just didn't get it. "Fin, that's the way the world goes 'round; you know - quid pro quo?" he told him. "You scratch my back, I scratch yours?"

"I think I might have heard of that expression somewhere," he told his son with a wry smile.

Brian nodded. "Then how in the hell could you have known that the son of one of your most trusted assistants would turn out to be a damn homophobic psycho prick? Can't you just accept my gratitude for saving my damn life and be done with it?"

Fin winced as a rumble of laughter threatened to bubble to the surface. "Ouch...don't make me laugh, Brian," he told his son as Brian's face contorted into worry and he clamped his arm around Fin's shoulder protectively in reaction. "I'm okay," he told him in reassurance. "Just remind me not to let Tony show any comedy DVDs to me while I recuperate a little more. Speaking of which..." He really needed to reach his partner; God only knows what must be running through Tony's mind at the moment. The request he was about to utter again to have Brian get his cellphone died on his lips, however, as he heard a ruckus immediately near his room and knew it wouldn't be necessary. He and Brian exchanged a glance as his son slowly slid off the bed and rushed over to the doorway to observe two very familiar faces contorted in aggravation and anger.

"Damn it!" Tony was growling as two security men prevented him from proceeding any further. "Let me the hell go!"

"This is Fin's partner, you morons!" Justin told them as he tried to push them aside; unfortunately between the two men they must have had at least fifty pounds on him, and the rather narrow hallway prevented him from sidestepping past them.

"Sir, if the two of you don't settle down, we will have you forcibly removed," the larger of the two men was telling Justin and Tony; from the moment they had arrived near the emergency room entrance, they had been met by a virtual flood of media camped outside. It seemed that word of the rumor had spread like wildfire; the only good part to all of it was that they had been able to circumvent the ER entrance and enter through the main location unhindered by anyone who might have recognized them as key players in the O'Connor campaign. They had threaded their way internally to the ER, only to be stopped cold just inside the doorway by two hospital security gorillas who must have been told not to let any unauthorized personnel enter. So far, they still hadn't been able to confirm just who had been injured and how badly any injuries were, adding even more to their frustration and worry.

"For fuck's sake!" Justin shouted helplessly, uncaring of how much attention they were garnering with the hospital staff. "We just need to know how the senator and his son are doing! Can't you at least pass along a message to them?"

"What do I look like - Western Union?" the older of the two men sneered at him. "There's a waiting room back about twenty feet; you can wait there for word."

"Gee, thanks," Justin told him with disdain. He shook his head angrily; he was not giving up. Thoughts of Tony trying to distract them while he ran for it filtered through his mind just before he heard a voice that made his heart leap into his throat.

"Justin!"

Justin jerked his head around the two men to see an intact-looking Brian standing approximately twenty feet way and his body flooded with relief. "Brian!"

"Let them go!" Brian told the two men in as authoritative a voice as he could muster. "They're who they say they are!"

Something in the tone of Brian's voice must have registered sincerity somehow, because the two security men glanced at each other momentarily before the one who was apparently in charge gave the other man a curt nod and they miraculously parted like the Red Sea. As soon as they stood to either side of the hallway, Tony and Justin rushed from their place toward Brian.

As soon as he was a few feet away, Justin launched himself into Brian's arms as Brian wrapped his hands around Justin's back and held him tightly, closing his eyes to just savor the moment. It had only been a few hours since they had last seen each other, but at the moment it felt like it had been an eternity.

"Brian," Justin murmured against his chest.

"Shhh," Brian whispered, his chin lying on top of the golden-haired head. He inhaled the familiar scent of Justin's coconut and almond shampoo as he told him, "I'm fine. Everything's okay." And standing there with Justin in his arms, he knew that was the truth; everything _would_ be okay now.

He pulled back reluctantly after several seconds to look down into Justin's troubled eyes, noticing others staring at them as he gently propelled Justin into Fin's room where the other two men were having a tender reunion of their own.

Justin gasped as he noticed Fin sitting sideways on the hospital bed, his shoulder adorned with a large, white cotton bandage. "My God..."

"I'm fine, Justin," Fin told him; he and Tony were sitting side-by-side, their hands clasped together. Tony couldn't take his eyes off his partner as Fin explained, "It's just a fairly minor wound; the doctor said it should clear up on its own without any lasting effects. I'm going to be just fine," he reassured both him and his partner as he smiled over at Tony, whose fingers tightened imperceptibly against his.

Brian kept one arm curled around Justin's shoulder as Justin told them, "We tried to call both of you and the phones went directly to voicemail; and when Don called to tell us there had been some kind of incident after the debate, all sorts of things went through our mind. We didn't know what to think...We only knew we had to get here right away to make sure you were both okay." He shook his head in disbelief as he peered over at his father-in-law. "What the fuck happened?"

"Something I never, ever expected," Fin told him curtly as Tony lightly brushed some hair back from Fin's forehead, apparently trying hard to make sure his lover was, indeed, intact and fairly well, at least under the circumstances. "It was Adam," he told him, his lips drawn into a tight line over the thought of how he had been so soundly duped into never seeing the man's true colors. "He stabbed me."

Justin's eyes widened as Tony gasped; he hadn't had time yet to find out the whole story himself. "As in Adam _Stewart?_ Your aide's _son?"  
_

A muscle twitched in Fin's jaw as he nodded, still finding it hard to believe himself. "Fucker came out of nowhere after the debate; walked right up to us and pulled a folding pocketknife out of his pants pocket."

Brian cleared his throat. "What Fin isn't telling you is that the knife was meant for _me_, not him. He deflected it at the last moment." He inhaled a shaky breath before he added, "Fin was stabbed because of me."

"That's enough, Brian," his father told him sternly, his voice strong despite his injury and leaving no room for argument. "We've already had this discussion and it's closed. The only one to blame here is Stewart...Okay?"

Brian bit his lip, holding back the protest that threatened to emerge from his lips. He still felt guilty about the whole thing, not to mention just a bit unaccustomed to such support from a family member - besides Justin, anyway. He finally nodded his agreement as Fin nodded back at him in satisfaction.

"Where is he now?" Tony asked, still trying to digest this unbelievable bit of information.

"Harrisburg P.D. came and took him down to the station," Fin told the other two men. "Dean Whittle actually helped restrain him until security came and called 9-1-1- for me." He let out a shaky breath, still finding the whole situation hard to believe. "Quite a departure from what Turner would have done; that bastard probably would have been more than happy to just leave me lying there bleeding to death on the floor..."

"Fin," Tony murmured, unable to even think of that outcome. "Don't..." If Brian and Whittle hadn't been there when the whole thing had happened...

"Hey, Counselor, come back to the bench," he heard Fin say as he swallowed hard and turned to lift his gaze to meet Fin's. "I'm fine," he reiterated to him firmly as he squeezed his partner's hand with surprising strength. "But I AM tired of this fucking hospital; where is that damn wheelchair? I _hate_ this policy; if someone doesn't get here in the next few seconds I'm going to walk out of here on my own power."

"That might be easier said than done," Justin told him, still savoring the feel of Brian's hand on his shoulder. He drew his own strength from that as he told them, "The media is parked right outside the ER doors; as soon as you pop your head out they're going to be on you like bees on honey."

"Shit," Fin muttered, somehow not surprised by that but hoping that wouldn't be the case. "I am NOT in the mood to deal with them right now. Did you and Tony come in that way?"

Justin shook his head. "No, we took one look at all the jackals waiting outside and walked around to the main entrance to come in the other way." Fin nodded as he added, "We'll have to have someone either run interference for you or hope there's some other way to get you out of here unnoticed. Maybe there's a back employee entrance or something." Just then a clanging sort of noise alerted them to another's presence as a hospital transport employee entered with a wheelchair, followed by a nurse.

"All set, Senator?" the nurse asked Fin, noting his valuables packed up. "I can assist you with putting your shirt back on; it's getting a little chilly outside."

"It's all shredded," he told the nurse as Tony slid off the bed and walked over to his partner's bag of valuables, plucking out Fin's suit jacket and walking over to gingerly drape it over his shoulders. The two exchanged a loving look as he informed the nurse, "The senator needs some other way to leave the hospital with all the media outside. Is there some back entrance he might be able to use? He's in no condition to deal with them right now."

The woman considered that for a moment before she nodded. "I suppose we could take you down a floor to the lower level and let you out through the freight entrance. It's highly unorthodox, but considering your stature and the media circus I saw for myself a few minutes ago, I think we could make an exception." She eyed Brian, who she recognized from earlier. "You'll be driving the Senator home?"

"No," Tony immediately piped up, unable to stand the thought of being separated from his partner anymore. "I'm his partner; I'll be driving him home."

The nurse paused for a moment, not too surprised by that statement. She had been following the gubernatorial campaign closely lately and knew the senator's sexual orientation; she had also viewed the press conference a few months ago when his partner had been introduced to the public and recognized him now. "Fine," she told them with a nod. "I just need you to look over your discharge instructions and sign them, and then you'll be free to leave. Sheila here knows the way."

The other woman standing behind the wheelchair - a tall, imposing woman with dark black hair and piercing eyes, nodded. "Won't even need GPS," she joked as she cracked a piece of gum in her mouth and grinned.

Fin smiled at her gratefully as the nurse approached with a green folder, opening it to pull out four pieces of paper. After several seconds of explanation as to what the papers signified, Fin managed to sign the paperwork with Tony holding the paper securely for him before his partner slid his hand under his shoulder for support and he slowly slid down from his perch, groaning a little as his feet hit the hard, linoleum floor.

"You okay?" Tony asked softly, knowing how proud - and stubborn - his partner was. Fin gritted his teeth as he nodded, standing there for a few moments to catch his bearings before he slowly shuffled over to the wheelchair and, using his good hand, managed to plop down into the seat with another soft moan. "I'm fine," he told the other three men, who all looked at him warily. "Let's get out of here."

Sheila nodded as she walked around and pushed the foot rest supports down for Fin to place his feet on. Standing up, she told them, "This way, gentlemen," as she deftly turned the wheelchair around and began to wheel Fin out of the room.

"You'll need to bring the car around," she told Tony as they began to walk toward the elevators. "Just look for the service entrance sign directing you to the access near the main entrance of the hospital and follow the arrows. You'll see three semi loading and unloading bays right next to the service door with a ramp there. By the time you bring the car around, the senator should be ready to meet you."

Tony nodded, hesitant to let his partner's hand go but knowing he must. He gave Fin's hand one last squeeze before he released it; Sheila instinctively stopped the wheelchair long enough for Tony to lean down and whisper in his partner's ear, "I'll be right back, okay?"

Fin nodded back at him as Tony placed a quick kiss on his cheek before standing back up to look at Brian. "Where's the car?"

"Still back at the studio; I came in the ambulance with Fin."

Tony nodded. "I'll have one of Fin's staff go over there tomorrow and get it. I'll be right back, then." The other three men nodded as he hurried off to retrieve the SUV.

Brian and Justin hung back a little as Sheila led them over to the elevators, punching in the button to descend to the lower level; their hands remained firmly clasped together, each obtaining much-needed emotional sustenance from the gesture. Brian idly caressed the top of Justin's hand with his thumb, perhaps not even aware he was doing so as the door opened and they all entered the elevator car together.

A few minutes later they emerged to find themselves waiting in a rather narrow, bland-looking hallway near a single door, watching for Fin's SUV to arrive. Soon a single set of headlights approached from the east side of the building, coming close enough for Fin to instantly recognize them as belonging to his own personal vehicle.

"That it?" Sheila asked him as Fin nodded and began to rise from his place in the chair. Only then did Brian finally break his handhold with Justin and grasp Fin's good arm under his bicep to help him stand, Justin walking over to do the same on the other side, only he took care to slide his arm around Fin's upper back to assist him instead.

Sheila opened the door to see the senator's partner emerging from the driver's side of the vehicle to walk up to them. She continued to hold the door open as the trio began to exit to the outside, telling Fin sincerely, "Good Luck, Senator. I'll be voting for you, by the way."

Fin twisted his head to bestow a trademark smile and a nod on her before he turned and slowly ambled down the ramp with his son and Justin's help, Justin willingly conceding to let Tony replace him at Fin's side as he walked up to them.

"I'll drive," Justin decided. "You and Fin can sit in the back together, then." He knew how much he craved being next to Brian at the moment; he assumed Tony was feeling much the same way as he was. His suspicions were confirmed as Tony flashed him a grateful smile as they arrived at the SUV and he reached over to open the back passenger door for his partner. Waiting patiently for Fin to use the overhead handle to help slide himself inside, once his lover had managed to swing his legs around to the interior of the vehicle he shut the door and walked over to get in beside him from the other side.

A few minutes later, all four men were finally safely inside the SUV and on their way out of the hospital, thankfully leaving the tenacious band of insatiably curious media personnel far behind them.

* * *

_Forty-Five Minutes Later - Fin and Tony's Home_

Justin sighed as he fell heavily onto the couch, feeling utterly drained after the past few hours. He closed his eyes briefly in relief, savoring the quiet and solitude. Brian had had to field several calls from Fin's staff on the way home, ensuring them that their candidate was fine and beseeching them to field any other calls needed from the media in the meantime so his father could get some much-needed rest. He had also arranged for all of Fin's home phone calls to be forwarded to Mark Leon to handle. Tony had insisted on taking Fin back to their bedroom to lie down as soon as they had arrived, even though Fin had offered up a half-hearted protest that he was fine, only to be met with an unyielding, defiant stare from his partner that he was not going to back down. Wordlessly, then, Fin had allowed his partner to lead him toward the rear of the house toward their master bedroom to do precisely as he was told, a silent admission that this man was the only one in the world who had command over his heart and his typically stubborn will.

Justin, for his part, had spent several minutes of his own phoning everyone he could think of in their immediate circle of family and friends to let them know what had happened and that everything was under control; he had been immensely relieved to find out that Gus had already gone to bed at Sean and Kathy's house and was oblivious to what had happened. Now, he slowly opened his eyes as he felt Brian's fingers softly feathering the hair at the nape of his neck; turning his head, his smiled lovingly at his husband reclining beside him as Brian curled his hand around Justin's neck and gently pulled him closer for a tender, soft kiss. As they pulled back, Justin whispered, "That was close, Brian; _too_ close. For _both_ of you."

Brian swallowed, knowing Justin was right but hating to admit it. "Everything turned out okay..." he tried to counter, but the words sounded hollow even in his own throat.

"This time," Justin told him as their hands came together once more to intertwine; since the events of earlier he found that he couldn't stop touching Brian, reaffirming to himself that his husband really was okay, that THEY were okay. "What about next time, though?"

"Stewart was a whack job, Sunshine; there's no reason to think there will BE a next time," Brian told him as he stared into the concerned pools of blue. "You can't place yourself into a perpetual bubble; that's existing, not living."

Justin huffed. "I know that, Brian; _I _of all people know that," he reminded him as Brian nodded silently. "But there's a line you sometimes need to draw between living the life the way you choose and demonstrating common sense. If you expose yourself to bigots and 'whack jobs' as you put it on a frequent basis, the vermin are all going to crawl out of their slimy holes just like Stewart did. Those kind of people don't think rationally OR logically."

Brian studied Justin's face carefully before he replied, "So...What? Are you saying Fin should turn tail and run now, Justin, because of this idiot? What would that _prove_?" Despite his own great guilt over what could have been, that seemed like the worst solution to him. He had never shrunk from a battle and he had no intention of doing so now. Besides, it wasn't his decision to make; it was his father's.

Justin sighed as he looked down at their intertwined hands, so familiar and so comforting; even so, his heart was beating wildly at the thought of what might have happened earlier tonight. "I know," he whispered in the face of painful reality. "My head knows it wouldn't prove a damn thing, and it isn't something that either you OR your father would do. My heart, though, is telling me to pull you somewhere into a secure, protected sanctuary, throw away the key and never let you out again." He slowly lifted his eyes to meet Brian's as he added in a choked voice, "If anything happened to you - or Fin..."

Brian reached over with his other hand to cup Justin's cheek and softly caress it. "It works both ways," he murmured in a heartfelt response. "But I believe in what we're doing here, Justin. And I know Fin does, too, or he wouldn't be subjecting himself to all this. He's a strong-willed man, Sunshine. He can confront this - and come out victorious in the end; I know he can."

"Yes, I agree," Justin replied softly, leaning instinctively into Brian's touch. "I just hope it doesn't cost all of us too much in the process." He sighed as Brian's fingers slowly caressed his skin. "You know I believe in Fin, too, and I'll support whatever you and he decide. This whole climate still scares the shit out of me, though, and I'm sure Tony feels the same way, even more so after tonight."

Brian leaned over until they were touching head-to-head, shoulder-to-shoulder as he replied, "I know you will, and I love you for that." He smiled in spite of the seriousness of the situation. "We sure pick extreme ways to get some private time lately, don't we?"

He heard Justin's soft chuckle beside him as his husband answered, "You might say that. I say we enjoy it while we can, then."

Brian sighed in contentment, relieved that everything had turned out relatively all right and he could at least relish a few moments alone with the man he loved. "I couldn't agree more," he whispered as he slowly closed his eyes in mental exhaustion, forcing himself to concentrate for the time being on the here and now. There would be more than enough chaos tomorrow; for now this was exactly what the doctor ordered.

* * *

_Same Time - Master Bedroom_

"Tony..." Fin didn't have to open his eyes from his supine position on the bed to feel his partner's eyes boring into his.

"What?" Tony replied sheepishly as he continued staring into Fin's face for any sign of discomfort. He was lying on his side facing Fin, his elbow bracing him up as he gazed over at his partner's form. Fin had practically fallen into bed once they had arrived there, exhausted and drained from his ordeal a few hours ago, not even bothering to remove any piece of clothing. Tony had managed to dislodge his shoes and belt, electing not to disturb him any further at the time before Fin had slowly closed his eyes and softly moaned over the slight discomfort presented with the shoulder wound.

Fin opened his eyes to turn his head and find his partner doing exactly what he thought he was doing - keeping careful vigil over him, even though he had already told him several times that he was stiff and sore, but okay. He sighed as he gazed over at Tony affectionately. "Will you please stop already?"

"Stop what?"

"You _know_ what; doing that Mother Hen routine you always do when you're worried about me."

Tony twisted his lips ruefully, knowing he had been caught red-handed. "You know I can't help it when it comes to you," he grumbled in embarrassment. Only Fin could make him falter a little in his self-confidence.

"I know," Fin told him, his eyes full of love for this caring, compassionate man. He reached over to take his partner's other hand and cradle it against his chest with both of his. "But you need to let it go, Tony. It's over and we persevered just like we always will."

"Will we, Fin? Persevere, I mean? Just because we have right on our side? Because trust me, I've tried enough cases in my life to know that it doesn't always work that way and justice isn't always served. I've represented clients that I know were sent to jail for a crime they didn't commit, but because of extenuating circumstances or something else out of their control they were found guilty anyway. What happens when our own luck runs out just like theirs did?"

Fin pretended to look affronted by the idea, but he knew what Tony meant. "What happened to your faith in me, Counselor? I hear some doubts trickling in there."

Blue eyes flashed in irritation as Tony countered, "You know better than that, Fin! You know I back you one hundred percent no matter what you decide. But this isn't a game; this was your life at stake tonight! That fucker could have killed either you or Brian! Would it all be worth it then?" He swallowed the hard lump in his throat at the thought of something like that happening as he added, "It wouldn't be to me; nothing would be worth losing you."

Fin softly rubbed Tony's hand, his heart full of love for his staunchest of defenders. One side of his mouth turned up fondly at his lover as he told him in all seriousness, "I know what could have happened tonight, Tony; I recognize the stakes all too well. But that psychopath was gunning straight for my son. I couldn't let that happen," he told him, realizing now how much Brian meant to him. He gazed into his partner's eyes as he admitted, "You remember how scared I was at the thought of even meeting Brian before?" Tony nodded as he continued, "Well, tonight - when I saw that flash of metal reflecting off the spotlights above the studio and realized in one horrible moment what Stewart was about to do - I only had one thought on my mind: getting to my son to protect him." He shook his head, hardly able to believe it even now. He blew out a breath between his lips. "Wow, how things have changed, Tony."

Tony stared into his lover's face, noticing the change in expression that came over him; his fingers curled over Fin's hand to give it a squeeze as he murmured, "Yeah, it has. You really do love him, don't you?"

Fin gazed into Tony's eyes a moment before he nodded. "Shit, God help me but I do, Tony, I really do. I'm glad he's in my life - and I'm glad you're in my life, too." Tony smiled at him as he added softly, "Have I told you lately just how much I fucking love you, Counselor?"

Tony replied with a smile as he told him huskily, "I'm sure you have, but I never get tired of hearing it."

Fin nodded as he brought Tony's hand up to his mouth to kiss the knuckles. "Well, that's good because I never plan to quit telling you."

Tony's smile faded a little as he told Fin, "And you know how much I love you, too - and worry about you. But I know how important this campaign is to you, too. Isn't there some happy medium that can be reached, though, between still being accessible to the voters while ensuring your safety a little more?"

Fin dropped their clasped hands between their bodies as he pondered that question. "Maybe," he conceded to Tony's relief. "How about Brian and I talk to Don about that tomorrow? At least we're done with the road trip and the first debate; the second one won't be until next week. We'll have some much-needed time to regroup in the meantime." A sudden thought occurred to him as he murmured, "Poor Regina."

Tony was dumbfounded. "Poor _Regina_? Fin, her son almost killed YOUR son - stabbed you in the shoulder on top of it, and you feel sorry for her?"

"Tony, she couldn't have known what he would do; I'm convinced of that. Regina has been more than supportive of me for years and has had no problems with my sexuality. I'm sure she had no idea what her son was capable of doing. She will be devastated when she finds out, if she hasn't heard already."

Tony shook his head, not exactly surprised by Fin's compassion but not sure if it was misplaced. "Well, that may be, Fin, but I would watch her just the same. What's the saying? Keep your friends close and your enemies closer."

Fin laughed softly. "Why, Counselor, what a cynic you've become all of a sudden!"

"No," Tony disagreed. "Just cautious when it comes to you and your son."

Fin nodded. "Well, at least I have a worthy opponent now; one that is ethical for a change. Did I tell you that Dean even helped hold that asshole at bay until security got there and then called 9-1-1 for me?"

Tony nodded thoughtfully. "I have to admit I'm impressed; whatever happens in this election, I'll be grateful to your friend for that."

"Tony, we have a real fight on our hands now," Fin told him truthfully. "Turner's efforts were almost laughable compared to Dean's credentials. He is going to be tough to beat." At Tony's look of incredulity, he corrected himself. "I said tough - not impossible; we'll come out on top in the end, I'm sure of it."

"That's more like it," Tony told him with a smile. "I have no doubt you will prevail, my love. No doubts at all." He gazed into Fin's tired eyes as he implored softly, "Now will you please get some rest, Senator? For me?"

Fin nodded at him. "Yes, Nurse," he said as Tony scooted over closer to him to lay his head against Fin's unaffected shoulder, needing that connection between them. "Only if you do, too. At least I'm sure my bed will be a lot softer than Stewart's tonight," he added just before he closed his eyes and allowed slumber to overtake him.

* * *

_Same Time - 14th Precinct Police Headquarters - Downtown Harrisburg_

Joe LaTaglia was your stereotypical detective - portly, 40-ish, slightly shorter than average height and carrying way too much weight around his girth - born of a love for his mother's homemade lasagna, Krispy Kreme donuts, and sticky slabs of meat from Bucky's Ribs House down the street. He had long ago given up doing a comb over of the few tendrils of graying hair he had left, also, choosing instead to just smooth it down as best he could. He also loved to chomp frequently on the butts of way too many cigars, casting a decided stench around the precinct interrogation room, partly because he enjoyed inhaling the aroma but also in an effort to unsettle whatever suspect he was questioning.

The desired effect seemed to be working on his present subject - a man who had been booked into the precinct after being arrested for trying to assault the son of Senator Fintan O'Connor earlier tonight. Whether the son, Brian Kinney, was the intended target or the senator himself was one issue he was about to try and discern as he stared down at the wiry-looking man who was fidgeting in his chair, his hands curled into fists on top of the scuffed, wooden table. He remained silent and motionless as he stared down at Stewart, knowing that typically his unyielding stature was normally more than enough to get a somewhat rattled suspect to reveal more information than they normally would.

To his disappointment, however, Stewart met his gaze unflinchingly with a similar expression of his own as he growled, "You can try and stand there and intimidate me all you want, Columbo; I'm not saying a thing until I have an attorney present. I know my rights."

"Well, bully for you, Stewart," LaTaglia replied, his latest cigar clenched tightly between his teeth. "No skin off my nose," he told the other man who peered up at him with thinly disguised disgust. "I have all night. Let's see how comfortable you remain sitting in that chair until he gets here, then." He glanced over at another policeman standing silent sentry by the door. Walking over to approach him, he asked nonchalantly, "Ready for some more coffee? I feel a sudden urge for another latte from Starbucks."

"Sure," the other man told him with a smile, knowing LaTaglia's routine well. His main goal was to unnerve the suspect into singing like a canary by making him as uncomfortable as possible. Just because LaTaglia had to adhere to upholding the other man's rights didn't mean he had to make him feel like he was staying in a hotel, though.

"The usual?" LaTaglia asked as the other man nodded. "I'll be back in a few minutes, then. He glanced over at Stewart as he added, "Take good care of our _guest_."

"I need to piss and I demand to call my attorney," Adam snarled from his place at the table. "I've been sitting here for the past two fucking hours."

"Poor thing," LaTaglia snapped unsympathetically, unable to hold his patience back any longer with the other man. He sighed heavily, however, knowing he could push things only so far without running the risk of being accused of trampling on his suspect's civil rights. Turning to the other policeman, he advised him, "Take him to do his thing and park him back here. I'll be back shortly."

The other man nodded as LaTaglia slipped out the door and headed to his office; he had no intention of going anywhere, but he wasn't going to tell Stewart that. _Let the fucker squirm a little more, _he thought with disdain. He didn't pretend to understand what it meant to be gay - being a big fan of political races and all the intricacies it entailed he had listened to O'Connor's public acknowledgment of his sexuality earlier as a mere interesting turn of events but it had meant nothing more to him personally - but he also had no room for intolerance, either. And to stab someone merely because they didn't believe in the other's lifestyle? If he lived by any credo in his own life, it was let bygones be bygones, and this type of moron really grated on his nerves.

* * *

Thirty minutes later, he brought a cup of the half-fresh coffee from the precinct's nearby coffeemaker to his colleague as he opened the interrogation room door and stepped back inside, observing Stewart now running his hands through his hair in agitated frustration. There was still no sign of the man's attorney, he noted with interest. He wasn't sure if that meant the man couldn't afford one or there had been some sort of delay.

Deciding to use it to his advantage in either case, he gave the other policeman his coffee before lumbering over to stand across from Stewart at the small, rectangular wooden table, the only illumination coming from two strips of fluorescent light bulbs hanging overhead. The garishness of the lighting cast a pallor over Stewart's face as LaTaglia loomed over him and stared down in disgust at the other man, his latest cigar butt clenched between his teeth.

"I told you," Stewart snapped as he lifted his gaze to glare up at the detective. "I'm not saying a word until my attorney gets here. You're wasting your time."

LaTaglia shrugged as he removed the remnant of his cigar to hold it between two stubby fingers. "Your call. But there were witnesses to what you did. It's going to be an open and shut case, if you ask me. You sure you want to be the only one to take the fall for something like this? You're looking at some real serious jail time here, fella; and a pretty boy like you will be real popular in jail."

"Well, I didn't ask for your holier-than-thou opinion," Stewart told him tersely, feeling his brow breaking out into a cold, nervous sweat as he wiped the perspiration away from his face; the thought of being someone's 'object of interest' in prison made his blood run cold. He had never been inside a prison OR a police station before in his life, and having to call his father earlier to tell him where he was and the reason why he was there had been one of the most humiliating experiences of his life. What he had initially hoped would be a huge pat on the back for his efforts had instead turned into a tongue lashing over his failure to carry out his initial plan; if he had succeeded his father would have been praising him lavishly for what he had done. Instead, his father had berated him over his inadequacy to get the job done and his need to scrabble up enough money to provide him with counsel so his ass didn't wind up in a jail cell forever. He sighed in disgust; how did such a lofty goal turn into being such a dismal failure? And where was their family's fucking attorney? Was his father purposely delaying coming here with the attorney just to punish him?

He watched as LaTaglia pulled back a hard, wooden chair on the opposite side of the table with a decided scrape and dropped his rather large girth unceremoniously onto the seat, his barrel-shaped legs hanging off to either side. Although the idea to attack Kinney had been his idea and his alone, he had to grudgingly admit - the detective had a point. If he was going down for what he did - if he was going to be subject to any jail time at all and it was beginning to appear that he very well might - there were still some players in this sordid game that had not risen to the surface; one in particular. Perhaps it was time that this haughty, arrogant detective realize that his own ranks weren't so lily white, either, when it came to corruption.

"What would be in it for me?" he suddenly asked LaTaglia.

The detective slowly raised one eyebrow to eye the other man, purposely appearing nonchalant but celebrating his victory internally. He had been around enough suspects before to know when they were going to crack, and this one was about to start singing like the jailbird he was. "I'm promising nothing," he told him flatly as he reached over to grab a heavy, glass ashtray from the corner of the table to flick some cigar ashes into the basin. He knew better than to promise any deals that might not be forthcoming; that could quite possibly backfire if he did. His normal experience told him, however, that just dangling the idea out there typically was enough. "But if you were to give us some information that might be helpful in some regard, well, then...it could only be to your advantage." _Wait for it, _he silently told himself as he took a drag of his cigar and glanced off to the side, feigning disinterest. _Wait for it..._

A few seconds later, he heard Stewart saying, "I'm not the only one who needs to be sitting here," and he knew he had him.


	26. Looking Into a Mirror

_Brian develops a bond with an unlikely person, bringing painful memories to the forefront; Stockwell's involvement is disclosed._

* * *

_The Next Morning - Fin & Tony's House_

Lying on his back, Tony slowly opened his eyes, somehow sensing his partner's loss before he heard Fin speaking quietly into his cell phone from several feet away. The balcony's doors were open, allowing him to hear what Fin was saying despite his attempt to keep his voice down. Still being concerned about his partner's well-being after the events of last night and knowing how Fin tended to overdo himself at times like these, he rose from the bed and grabbed his sleep pants before softly padding over to the balcony.

Fin glanced up and flashed a quick but tender smile at him, making his heart skip a beat as he walked up and gave his partner a quick kiss on the lips before sitting down next to him at their small, round table and chairs. He noticed Fin had managed to make himself a cup of coffee somehow because his favorite mug was sitting half-full next to him on the table. He wondered who Fin was speaking to at this early hour - it was barely past seven - until he heard him speak again.

"Shit, Regina! Now don't start crying on me! You had no way of knowing; I'm not blaming _you_." As when he was normally anxious, Fin brushed some hair back from his forehead before pinching the bridge of his nose with two fingers; Fin had his phone nestled in the crook of his neck at the moment. "Of course I understand; he's your son. You still love him."

Tony reached over to idly rub the back of Fin's neck in a silent show of support as Fin sighed softly. "Regina..._Regina_. That's not in question. When you're ready, your job will be there." There was another pause before Fin nodded. "Don't thank me. And for God's sake quit with the guilt trip! Now go do what you need to do and I'll get Patsy to fill in for you until you can come back, okay?"

Tony took his hand and traveled it down his partner's tense shoulder muscle to give it a squeeze as Fin concluded his call. "Take care of yourself, Regina. I'll be thinking about you. Bye." He let out a long breath between his lips as he punched the button to end the call and placed his cell phone down on the table. Looking over into the sympathetic face of his partner, he reached over to take his hand.

"I take it that was your assistant," Tony replied quietly as he looked over at their clasped hands lying on the table between them. He still had mixed feelings about Fin's generosity toward the mother of the man who could have killed either his partner or his partner's son. Realistically, he knew it wasn't Regina's fault, and he agreed with Fin that she most likely had no idea what her son had been planning. But it was hard to separate his feelings from the reality at the moment; last night had been way too close for his comfort. He lost himself in the feeling of Fin's warm hand in his, so calming and reassuring, as he slowly lifted his gaze to stare over at his partner.

Fin nodded. "Yeah. She's really upset. Said she got a call from her ex-husband a few hours ago, telling her what had happened. She called me to apologize on his behalf and to get the whole story; she had a feeling that her ex probably wasn't telling her everything, and it turns out she was right. Would you believe the fucker told her that Brian and I had been _taunting_ Adam during the RV campaign and that he was merely acting in self-defense because he felt threatened?"

Tony looked at him aghast, trying to figure out if he had heard right. "He _what_?"

Fin shook his head in disbelief. "He told her we had been bullying Adam over his staunch religious beliefs and that he couldn't take our depravity and immorality that we were flaunting in his face any longer, so he had to lash out against us in reaction. Said it amounted to the same thing as self-defense, kind of like a fucking battered-wife syndrome or some temporary insanity episode. He also said he would have done the same thing. How's THAT for a plausible defense, Counselor?"

"That's bullshit," Tony bristled, his blue eyes flashing with fury as his grip tightened almost painfully in Fin's grasp. "That is the most preposterous, fucked up statement I've ever heard - and believe me, I've heard a LOT of them over the years." He huffed out a breath of incredulity, still unable to process what he was telling him. "You have got to be shitting me!"

Fin smiled at his partner gently as he slowly caressed Tony's hand in an attempt to soothe him; he knew that would be his reaction. "Now don't go getting your briefs in a bunch," he chided him, loving Tony's bulldog protectiveness but knowing he needed to make sure the blame was placed squarely where it should lie. "For what it's worth, even Regina agreed with you. No normal person would think that."

"Well, we're not _dealing _with a sane person, Fin, or Stewart wouldn't have tried to kill you last night," Tony hissed. He pulled his hand away from Fin and stood up, turning around to place his hands on the metal railing of the balcony. He inhaled a deep breath and let it out, taking solace from the coldness of the metal as he gazed out onto the back of their property - the place that was their one sanctuary where they could be themselves and enjoy total privacy. It was the one thing that helped them to maintain control of their lives - control that had rapidly spiraled out of their grasp once his partner had decided to run for Governor and the psychopaths and bigots had seemingly come out of the proverbial woodwork. He closed his eyes in concern. His unwavering love and support for Fin had never faltered - it was there just as deeply as it had ever been - but once more he wondered what the price might be for his partner to be successful in his dream to be Governor.

He felt rather than heard Fin's presence as his lover wound his good arm around his waist from behind and pulled him closer to his body, careful not to press them TOO tightly together with his arm still in a sling. Fin placed his chin on Tony's shoulder as he whispered, "Talk to me."

Tony turned around in Fin's embrace to place his hands on his shoulders. "You already know," he told him softly. He was careful not to press into his body too closely despite his wish to; but the sight of the immobilized limb only made him concentrate on what he had been trying to forget.

Fin nodded. He paused for a moment and stared into his partner's worried eyes before he asked, "You want me to bow out? I would do that, you know, but for only one reason. I would do it for _you_."

Tony bit his lip. He was actually tempted to selfishly nod yes in response to Fin's question, but he knew that he couldn't. He knew how much running for governor meant to him. And he knew how much of a difference - a REAL difference - Fin would make if he were to win. And despite everything that had happened - including the fact that Fin now had a real, legitimate contender to deal with instead of the buffoon Turner - he still firmly believed that his partner would ultimately come out victorious. No, he loved Fin deeply - deeply enough to know what was in his heart and how much it meant to him. If he told Fin he wanted him to quit, he would be doing him an injustice and the man he loved for his fierceness, passion, and determination would be diminished as well.

He shook his head, then, instead. "No," he told him firmly. "I love you for offering to do that, but I don't want you to. I want you to show all those bigoted bastards that Fintan O'Connor does not back down from a fight. I want the best man in the governor's mansion. And that's _you_."

Fin swallowed the emotional lump in his throat. "God, I love you so much, Tony Cassinelli," he whispered as the two came together for a kiss, Tony's arms winding around Fin's neck to pull him a little closer. A mild breeze, already warmed by the quickly-rising sun, caressed their skin as they continued to kiss, their worries temporarily forgotten as they stood there alone in their own, private oasis.

As they broke apart several seconds later, they heard someone clearing their throat and turned to see Brian standing there just inside the bedroom's door. He had heard voices earlier and had quietly opened the door to observe his father and Tony conversing on the balcony.

Fin smiled over at his son a little sheepishly. "Hey, Brian." He noticed despite the early hour his son was already showered and dressed neatly but casually in a pair of black jeans, a pull-over, lightweight coal-gray sweater, and a pair of black leather shoes. "You're up early."

Brian walked into the room and sat down on the end of the bed to face his father and Tony. "Woke up a little while ago and couldn't go back to sleep." He smirked. "My better half - as I'm sure he would call himself - was still sleeping like the dead when I got up." That wasn't really that unusual for Justin, though; he normally _was_ a heavy sleeper, at least when the two of them were in bed together. It was due partly to him wearing his husband out with some vigorous lovemaking before he fell asleep a few hours ago and also merely due to genetics. He had noticed, however, that last night Justin was a lot more restless than normal, tossing in his sleep from time to time. Only when he had spooned up against his back and wrapped his arms protectively around his husband's waist had Justin finally settled down for good. After what had happened last night, though, he really couldn't say that he blamed him.

Fin nodded as he walked into the bedroom and sat down in a desk chair near Brian.

Brian studied his father carefully, noting the slight grimace that appeared on Fin's face as he gingerly sat down. He tamped down the feelings of guilt that threatened to rise back to the surface as he asked softly, "How's the shoulder today? It is bothering you a lot?"

Fin shook his head. "No, not really; mainly stiff and just a little sore." He didn't want to tell his son that it actually hurt like a motherfucker at the moment; he had even been hiding that fact from Tony. The doctors had warned him yesterday that he might feel worse before he felt better; he didn't want his lover nor his son to know that, though; especially Brian, who already felt bad enough about it. "It'll be fine in no time."

Brian wasn't convinced his father was telling him the whole truth, but he knew him well enough by now not to press him. Nodding, he told him, "I just got off the phone with Kirk. You know we're going to have to talk to the press about what happened last night. He said they've been driving him crazy with inquiries."

Fin nodded as Tony came in and sat down on the bed near Brian. "I just had an interesting conversation with Regina about her son."

Brian's eyes widened slightly at that statement. "And...?"

"As I figured, she's devastated and blaming herself for what happened. Oh, and get this - her ex is trying to blame US for flaunting our 'depraved' lifestyle in front of him. He says that's what drove their son to do what he did."

"What the fuck?" Brian fumed, his mouth agape. "That...That is the most asinine thing I have ever heard!"

Fin nodded in agreement. "I know, and she also feels that way. Brian, she feels awful about what happened, but I assured her it was NOT her fault. She has been loyal to me for years now - I know she would never have condoned what her son did, and she could care less WHAT my sexual orientation is. She is _nothing _like her ex OR her son." He sighed. "I just wish I had figured him out before all this happened. Even Regina didn't know how deep his hatred ran for us. She had NO idea he felt that way." He paused for a moment before he added, "She asked me if she could take a leave of absence until her son's troubles are resolved. She may even try to get counseling for him, although since he's an adult she can't force him to do it. I told her that her job would still be here when she's ready to come back to work."

"Fin, do you think that's wise? Are you sure about her loyalty?" Brian pressed, concerned about his father's safety.

Fin glanced over at Tony who raised an eyebrow at him. He had mentioned the same thing to him earlier. He looked back at his son and nodded firmly. "Yeah, I'm 100% sure," he assured him. "I know that woman - she's more like a big sister to me. I don't hold her responsible for what happened, and she couldn't feel any worse about it than I suspect _you_ do," he gently chided his son. "Although neither one of you share any blame for what Stewart did."

Brian let out a tense breath, still unable to feel that he wasn't at least partly responsible himself. But truthfully Fin was right - no one was to blame except for the perpetrator himself - and maybe his homophobic cheerleader of a father. "Well, that's your decision," he told his father. "But we still need to address what happened. I think it's best at this point that we hold a press conference down at your headquarters to talk about it. But I also feel we shouldn't make that the focal point of your campaign; as disgusting as the whole issue is, if you're going to win this thing, especially with Whittle in the picture now, we need to convey that you have a solid grip on what the state's priorities are and that you are the best person to take care of all the issues facing your constituents. When it's all said and done, the economy and jobs creation are going to be more important than who you fuck."

Fin nodded vigorously. "I couldn't agree more. I need to focus on what we can do in this state to return it to prosperity and find new ways to generate revenue. I think I have made my opinion abundantly clear on how I view narrow-minded bigots, and Stewart's actions last night make my point abundantly clear without me having to really say another word. I think he has made a huge tactical error. No sane, intelligent voter could possibly think what he did was excusable."

"I think you give that fucker too much credit," Tony interjected softly, his eyes darkening in anger. "Yes, most open-minded people would view what he did as unacceptable; but we've seen enough people during the road trip to know that there's a lot of other wackos who share his views and even welcome them, Fin. They'll probably see him as a fucking HERO for what he tried to do."

"Tony..."

His lover sighed as he held up his hand. "That's all I'm going to say..._future Governor,"_ he replied quietly, his love - and faith - for his partner clearly evident. He stood up. "I'm going to go check my email and let them know I'll be coming into the office today. I'll leave you two to figure out how you're going to respond." He walked over to Fin to lean down and bestow a tender kiss on his lips, being careful to avoid his injured shoulder. "I'll call you later," he told his partner as Fin nodded. "I'm going to go take a shower and get dressed."

Fin watched his partner grab his robe off the back of their walk-in closet and walk toward the adjacent master bathroom; he waited until Tony had closed the door behind him before he told Brian, "He's in full agreement that I continue on with my campaign, but that doesn't mean he's still not worried as hell about my safety."

Brian's lips turned up into a wry smile. "Yeah...I know the feeling." He sobered a little as he told his father, "I wouldn't say this to Justin, but there _is_ some justification for their being concerned. You could stand to beef up your security some, Fin." It took a lot for Brian to admit that to his father - normally nothing fazed him or made him feel concerned. At least not before; now that he had both his husband _and_ father to worry about, though, that seemed to make his world spin just a little differently. "You don't have to put yourself into some untouchable bubble like some distorted Pope Mobile, but on the other hand it wouldn't be a bad idea to be a little more prudent about your safety."

Fin sighed, knowing his son was right. He fucking _hated_ the idea of isolating himself from the voters. But he also knew how worried both Tony and Justin were for both him and Brian's safety. He supposed he owed them some peace of mind for their unwavering support despite their concerns. He nodded. "Yeah...Okay. We can talk to Don about that when we get to headquarters. You ARE coming with me, aren't you?"

"Of course," Brian responded, wondering why Fin would even ask that. "I'm your campaign manager," he explained. "Where else would I be?"

Fin shrugged. "I just thought that maybe you and Justin might want to head back to Pittsburgh for a while. I know you've been away for some time now."

Brian shook his head. "No, not yet anyway. Justin's going back this morning - he has a couple of paintings he's put off working on for this road trip and they can't wait any longer. But he knows why I need to stay here, at least until this latest controversy blows over. Maybe then I can head back to the Pitts for a few days until your next debate is televised next week." Brian had accepted the fact that when he became his father's campaign manager he would be giving up day-to-day control of Kinnetik, but he still felt a tug to check in on his 'baby' occasionally. And truthfully, the road trip had turned into much more of a debacle than even _he _could have imagined; the idea of going back home to Britin and just spending a little down time with Justin and their friends and family held an inordinate appeal to him at the moment.

Fin nodded as he stood up. "Well, I'm going to go get dressed myself and we can drive into town together. Does Justin need a ride to the airport? I assume he's going back on your private jet."

Brian nodded. "Yeah." He grinned. "If you'll excuse me, I have to go wake Sleeping Beauty up. Meet you downstairs in about an hour?"

Fin nodded. "Yeah. Sounds good. I want to check with Don before we go and see if he's heard anything else about Stewart. I haven't heard a peep since he was taken into custody last night, and from what I saw on the web the police are being real tight-lipped about it." He couldn't help chuckling as he added, "I'm sure the press is going crazy right now because of that."

Brian returned his smile. "No doubt," he said dryly. He rose from the bed, saying, "I'll go check on Justin while you're getting dressed. Meet you downstairs in an hour." Fin nodded as Brian headed off toward the end of the hallway where he and Justin had slept last night.

As he approached the open doorway, Brian couldn't help smiling at the sight of his husband still fast asleep, partially burrowed under the covers. Justin was lying on his side, facing him, the pillow he had used last night firmly clutched in his arms as he clasped it to his bare chest. The lightweight duvet, which Justin had managed to commandeer last night to himself as he left Brian shivering slightly with only a sheet, was tangled up in his legs. His face was somewhat obscured by a thicket of hair that had fallen into his eyes. His hair was splayed out at all angles as it lay against the dark navy of the pillowcase, and his skin was starkly highlighted against the wrinkled, matching sheet lying nearby. As Brian quietly walked up to the bed and observed him sleeping peacefully, he thought Justin had never looked more beautiful than he did right then; his heart did its customary somersault just like it always did whenever he looked at him.

He hated to wake him, but he knew he and Fin needed to get downtown soon and Justin had made him promise to wake him up early so he could get back to his studio in the morning. He gingerly sat down next to his husband, drinking in the captivating sight for a moment longer before he leaned down to brush Justin's mouth with the lightest of pressure. A small whimper of pleasure escaped from the soft, warm lips before Brian watched golden eyelashes flutter and slowly open; a tender smile bloomed across his husband's face as Justin stretched his arms above his head. "What time is it?" he whispered as Brian reached down and gently brushed the rebellious hair away from Justin's eyes.

"About 7:30," Brian responded with a smile of his own as he leaned down closer to kiss Justin again, more deeply this time. Their mouths moved against each other's as they continued to kiss, each lost in the moment as every other problem temporarily fell away. It was only after Justin reached down to squeeze Brian through his pants that his husband was forced to pull away. "Uh, uh, uh," he scolded him as he took Justin's hand and moved it away. He brought the paler hand up to his lips to kiss it as he said, "That's your punishment for not getting up when I did."

Brian had to hold back a laugh at the half-pout on Justin's face as his lover replied, "Well, I'm UP_ now_." His voice lowered to a seductive whisper and he batted his eyes slowly as he suggested, "Take a shower with me."

Brian laughed, feeling his cock twitch at the thought. "Nice try, Sunshine, and I'm tempted, trust me, but I just took one." He gave his husband's hand a squeeze before he pulled on it to urge Justin to a sitting position, the duvet dropping away; he noticed with a lack of surprise that someone had the beginnings of an impressive woody showing, but he tried not to concentrate on that fact; his own dick, though, continued to have other ideas. Forcing himself not to act upon it, though, he urged, "Come on, Sleepyhead. Go get showered and dressed and Fin and I will drive you into town before we head down to headquarters. We're going to have to address what happened last night - as least as much as we know, which isn't a whole hell of a lot at the moment."

The mention of that horrendous episode awakened Justin more than any other stimulant could as he scooted up straighter in the bed against the headboard. "How _is_ Fin this morning?"

"Sore and stiff. But other than that he seems to be doing okay." Justin nodded as he added, "He's already spoken with Regina and she's as shocked as we were. Oh, and listen to this: she said her ex claims Stewart was justified in what he did because we goaded him into it with our 'depraved' lifestyles."

Justin mouth dropped open in astonishment as he bristled, his eyes flashing in fury. "What? Are you fucking shitting me? _Justified? _From what fucking planet is he _from_?"

Brian shook his head. "I know - it doesn't even merit a reply; it shows us where the asshole got his logic from, though." He gazed into Justin's eyes - the eyes that had seen so much pain, homophobia, and bigotry to last a lifetime before he had even reached adulthood and his expression softened. He reached over to gently curl his hand around Justin's bare shoulder, caressing it lightly with his thumb in a reassuring motion. "Try not to think about it, Justin," he replied softly. "He's not worth it." He glanced down and had to smirk at a particular part of Justin's anatomy practically winking back at him; as his eyes lifted to meet his husband's he saw the telltale blush on the pale cheeks. It amused him that even after all this time he could still do that to him and it made him feel inexplicably proud of that fact as well as extremely flattered.

He grinned, knowing he couldn't ignore what was so obviously begging for attention. Reaching down to curl his hand around Justin's cock, he heard his husband sigh of pleasure. "I suppose I _could_ help you out with this before you go take your shower," he huskily told him as he began to glide his hand up and down the shaft. "Never let it be said that Brian Kinney isn't an accommodating man."

Justin's smile widened as he nodded. "Wouldn't think of it."

* * *

_One Hour Later - Harrisburg International Airport  
_

"Take good care of him, Brad," Brian told his private pilot as he and Justin stood next to his private jet; Fin stood several feet away to allow his son and son-in-law some privacy.

His pilot nodded from his place nearby. "You got it, Mr. Kinney," he told his boss as, with a polite nod to him and Justin, he entered the body of the jet, leaving the two men relatively alone.

Brian felt himself choke up unexpectedly as he gazed down into Justin's luminous eyes; he knew it was silly. It wasn't as if were running off to some other country or even another state. It wasn't as if he wouldn't be back home very shortly, maybe even later today. But it probably had more to do with the past several days' events; all of the hatred, bigotry and deception, culminating in last night's violence, had made him realize how things could change in a heartbeat. Of course, in a way he _already _knew that; a bat and a bomb had made him all too aware of that before.

He swallowed hard and held Justin by his upper arms before he whispered, "I'll see you soon; probably later this evening." He wasn't sure if he was reassuring himself or Justin more as his husband nodded back at him.

Justin peered up into Brian's face as he raised his hand to lay it against his cheek. Stewart's attack last night weighed heavily on his mind as he again realized how close they had come last night to a tragedy - how close their world could have been blown apart; how close he had come to losing the man that meant more to him than life itself. His eyes began to fill with the hint of tears as he whispered back, "Don't be too long." He inhaled a calming breath to force himself not to break down like some childish faggot; he had long ago passed that age, but it was times like these that made him feel insecure, even afraid again.

Brian smiled at his sentimental, tenderhearted but courageous husband, wondering how he had ever lived without him. He supposed that was just it, though; before Justin his heart had never 'lived' before, it had merely existed. "I won't be," he promised as he pulled Justin tighter into his arms and their lips softly met for a passion-filled, emotional kiss.

Fin had to look away at the deep love so evident in the way that his son and Justin were kissing; it felt extremely private to watch and made him feel like a voyeur to something way too intensely personal to observe. Even though it had taken him and his son quite a while to begin feeling comfortable with each other, one thing had never been in doubt from the first moment he and Brian had met; this man was deeply in love with his husband with a bond that even HE envied. Oh, he loved Tony just as much - of that he was certain - but there was something almost otherworldly and unbelievably strong between the two of them that was plainly obvious to everyone who saw them together. They were like two halves of a whole, the yin to the other's yang, two pieces of a perfectly shaped puzzle.

Not for the first time, he wondered if he and Tony could one day be as happily married as his son and Justin were. It certainly hadn't seemed to diminish their love for each other; if anything it had only intensified it. He didn't have further time to contemplate it longer before he heard Brian bidding Justin goodbye and he turned to give Justin a smile and wave of his own. He watched as their two hands, which were intertwined together, slowly and reluctantly pulled apart before Justin turned and walked up the steps and into the jet to take a seat by the window. Brian pulled back just enough to be safely away from the departing jet as, with Justin gazing at him from one of the jet's windows and one more wave of their hands, the jet slowly began to taxi away. Fin watched as with a soft sigh Brian turned and walked toward him. He gave his son a sympathetic smile, knowing how he felt every time he or Tony had to leave on some business matter, before without giving it much thought he reached over with his good arm and gave his son's shoulder an affectionate squeeze, noting that it felt right now somehow. "Ready to go?" he asked softly.

Brian turned to take one last glance at the jet now taking off on the runway before he turned back and nodded. "Yeah," he answered. "Let's get back to work."

* * *

_Thirty Minutes Later - Outside Fin's Campaign Headquarters Building_

As they approached Fin's headquarters, Brian stared in astonishment at the mass of press planted outside the campaign building; it was wall-to-wall reporters mingling on the sidewalk and spilling out into the street. Several satellite boom trucks were parked on both sides of the roadway and there was almost a surreal circus atmosphere to the scene.

"Holy shit," Brian muttered as he swept his gaze over the whole picture. It looked like the floor of the New York Stock Exchange - everywhere he looked there was a person, jockeying for the closest position to the front entrance.

"Yeah," Fin concurred as he, too, looked out onto the sea of bodies. "Amazing what a little stabbing will do for your popularity," he commented dryly as he and his son exchanged a knowing glance. Making a hasty decision before it would be too late, he quickly turned down a nearby side street. "We'd better try to go in the back way and hope the press hasn't figured it out. I want to meet with the rest of my staff before I speak to the media."

"I agree," Brian told him bluntly. "I don't like the setup out there - too uncontrolled." He had taken Justin's concern to heart. After seeing the near-miss last night with his father, from now on he wanted a firmer handle on when and where his father spoke. He had no intention of hiding from anyone, but there wasn't any reason why they couldn't be more cautious, either.

Fortunately, as they drove down the narrow back alleyway, the unobtrusive, plain double metal door hiding the back entrance to the building's underground parking lot was deserted. Breathing a sigh of relief, Fin steered his SUV over to the entrance and, using a remote attached to the visor, waited just long enough for his vehicle to have sufficient clearance before he advanced inside, making sure to quickly close the door behind them.

Brian lifted his eyebrows in amusement. "You must have been a spy in a previous life," he observed dryly.

Fin grinned at him. "No, I have a partner who was probably one, though."

Brian chuckled softly as the two of them located an empty spot in the fairly narrow, concrete enclosure and disembarked.

* * *

"Thank God," Kirk exclaimed as he saw Fin and Brian emerging from the door leading from the stairs downstairs. Fin had called him earlier to advise they were on the way in, but that had been before all the press jackals had descended upon the front entrance. "I was hoping you would come in the back way," he told them, one hand clutching the phone. He had his other hand over the mouthpiece part of the landline instrument as he said, "The phones haven't stopped ringing off the hook since we got here."

Fin nodded an acknowledgment as he and Brian walked over to speak with some other members of his staff. After several seconds of speaking with his caller - yet another member of the press requesting an interview with the candidate - he quickly replaced the receiver and joined Fin and Brian.

"Quite a crowd outside," Fin commented. At the time they had rented the older brick building for his headquarters, he had thought it was a poor decision to install blinds on all the front windows, thinking it made him look like he was trying to be secretive, but now he was inordinately relieved that they had. The blinds were just translucent enough to make out forms of people outside - as well as inside - without giving away their identities, and he could tell the crowd outside was bursting at the seams.

Don Meyers walked up to the group, just in time to overhear his friend's comment. "That might have something to do with what I just heard about Stewart."

The small group all turned as one to peer over at him. "What did you hear?" Brian asked, having to talk a little louder than normal over the din of the workers in the cramped space.

Meyers looked over at them grimly, noticing the sling across Fin's chest where his arm was currently held immobile. He glanced around the room, realizing everyone's eyes were glued on them. "Let's take this into your private office," he told Fin with a nod toward the adjoining room.

Fin nodded back, frowning in curiosity. "Okay," he told his college chum as the group walked over to his office door. A few minutes later, the small band of his inner circle was congregated into the closed space as Fin turned to his friend. "Now...what's going on, Don?" he asked in the relative quiet. With the door closed, at least the volume level was minimized.

His security chief leaned against the far wall, his lips pursed as he replied, "This doesn't go outside this office," he told them curtly before he asked Fin, "Do you remember Art Kelly?"

Fin furrowed his brow in thought before a light bulb went off in his head. "Yeah...the guy who went into the Army right after college? Red hair, glasses, tall?"

Don nodded. "Yeah, that's the one - took his law enforcement degree and went into the Army with it. Well, when he was discharged about ten years ago he went to work for the Harrisburg Police Department. And he's stationed at the same precinct as the one where they took Stewart." He paused for effect, all eyes on him now. He lowered his voice even though no one in the next room could hear as he told them, "You didn't hear this from him. But he called me on the sly this morning to tell me that Stewart has been revealing some extremely interesting information while he's been their 'guest,' shall we say."

Fin and Brian exchanged a look as Fin asked, "What sort of information? Was someone else in on what he did last night?"

Don shook his head. "No...not as far as he could tell. Stewart was practically salivating over what he did last night," he told them with disgust. "Bastard seemed fucking _proud_ of it, in fact. No, I'm talking about the bribery scheme involving those two assholes who tried to discredit you and Brian. They weren't the only ones involved. Seems a former police chief was also helping out; at least he was in on the scheming according to Stewart. More importantly, he helped to supply some of the bribery money for them so they could be 'convinced' to share their story with the press."

Fin's eyes widened. "Former _police chief_?" He wracked his brain, trying to come up with who it might be. "From here? Who?" As a state senator, he had frequently come into contact with most heads of the local police department, and fortunately as far as he could tell they seemed fairly ethical. He searched his memory to try and come up with a name but found that he couldn't.

As Fin's old college friend turned to look meaningfully over at Brian, though, Brian's heart stopped in his throat. The man didn't have to say the name; somehow he _knew_. "You're shitting me," he murmured in quiet disbelief. "No fucking way. He's still in jail."

Don shook his head. "No, he's not. Although he might be in there again soon," he said. "He's been out for a while now." He snorted distastefully. "Got paroled early _for good behavior_."

"You have GOT to be fucking _joking_!" Brian growled in astonishment as his voice got louder and angrier. "That homophobic prick should've had his balls ripped off for what he got away with!"

Fin shook his head in confusion over his son's vehement outburst. "Who the hell are we talking about?" he demanded, not liking being kept in the dark.

Brian gritted his teeth as he spat out, "The illustrious Jim Stockwell, former police chief of Pittsburgh and poster boy for homophobes everywhere. Tried to run for mayor of the Pitts before everyone found out he helped cover up his former partner's murder of a teen hustler and was sent to jail for it - for _five years_!" He held his hands up in astonishment. "What the fuck?"

Meyers lifted one eyebrow sympathetically. "Well, who knows what sort of connections the man had on the judge who granted him early parole? And there's also the wonderful condition known as jail overcrowding." He pursed his lips tightly together as he added, "Something tells me that maybe they'll find room for him now, though - at least we can hope anyway."

Fin's mouth gaped open wide as he listened to what Stewart had told their old college acquaintance; now that his memory was jogged, he realized that he had certainly heard of Stockwell before. You didn't become a state senator and not be informed of such matters, and the tale of a police chief gone bad always made for salacious gossip as well as controversy. He made it his business to be as well informed as he could regarding Pennsylvania current events at all times, and the job to provide continual feeds to him fell to his office staff. His worst pet peeve was being asked a question regarding something that occurred in his own state and not being able to offer an informed opinion about it, and he despised fellow politicians who tried to bullshit their way through a question only to make themselves sound like total, ignorant asses. But to find that Stockwell had provided money to the two men who had tried to discredit both him and his son? Even in his long career as a politician, this sordid revelation was reaching a new low.

"Unbelievable," he murmured as he leaned back against his desk and scooted up to sit on the edge of it. "Just when I think I've heard it all..." He shook his head in amazement. "Did Art think that was the extent of Stockwell's involvement?"

Brian brushed his hand through his hair in agitation as Don nodded his head. He wondered what other asshole from his past were going to emerge before this was all over.

"That's what Stewart is claiming," Don told them. "But you have to remember - he was probably being used more as a convenient pawn to manipulate rather than a key player in this whole situation; who knows what else - or _who_ else - was involved? This could be just the tip of the iceberg here."

"Shit," Brian muttered in disgust. "Unfucking believable."

From his position at one end of the couch, Fin's speechwriter spoke up. "Fin," Kirk interjected. "We need to take advantage of this somehow. It can't hurt if we divulge what sort of scum Turner had associated himself with. It may not directly reflect on Whittle's camp, but it's sure as hell not going to look too good for the Republican party in general."

Fin sighed, torn between wanting to use whatever they could to their advantage but not wanting to appear as down and dirty as the other camp had been. In addition, he had a great deal of respect for his old friend who was now his candidate. "Brian?" he asked softly as he gazed over at his son standing with his back to the wall nearby. He could tell by the way Brian was standing so stiffly that he was still highly agitated by what he had just learned about Stockwell. "What do you think about using this information?"

Brian lifted his gaze to meet his father's, contemplating every parameter of that question. He let out a deep breath to try and calm himself, still not quite believing this new twist. "Well, first of all we're not supposed to even know about this yet," he pointed out as Don nodded over at him. "So if you make any type of comment regarding it _before_ it becomes public knowledge, that could be a problem for your friend, and I don't like to break confidences, even though I'd like to see that shit-faced Stockwell squirm before his ass is thrown back into jail. I imagine he was at least let out early with the stipulation that he stay out of trouble, so I would say he's just put the nail back into his coffin now." He set his jaw as he added, "I'll definitely be looking forward to that."

He sobered as he continued, "And secondly, if we make a point of flinging mud back at our opponent we're not going to look any better than Turner did. It's one thing to refute out-and-out lies and blackmail; it's quite another to try and besmirch Whittle based on something he had no control over." Besides, he thought to himself silently, the man had come to his own father's aid last night; they owed him for that at least. "I don't want Fin to win this campaign based on which candidate can dig up the most dirt on each other; I want him to win because he's the best qualified candidate for governor - and he is. We don't NEED to resort to name calling or innuendo for him to come out on top."

Fin couldn't help the swell of emotion that rose inside at his son's confident declaration of faith in him. And Brian was right; Whittle was a decent man unlike Turner and he wanted to win because the people saw him as the best choice, not because his camp was the best at painting his old friend with an unfavorable brush. He didn't think there would be much to malign him for, anyway, unless the man had some sordid background that he wasn't aware of. Somehow he found that highly unlikely, however.

"I agree with you," Fin told his son. "I want to win this campaign on my own qualifications and merits. If I can't do that then I don't DESERVE to win."

"But..."

"No, Kirk," Fin sternly replied as his young speechwriter's face fell in disappointment; he knew his ambitious staff member was anxious to use whatever weapons they had at their disposal to triumph over their opponent. "That's my decision."

Littleton sighed. "Okay, all right," he grumbled, realizing Fin was right but still frustrated. He rubbed his hands across his denim-clad thighs as he rose from the other end of the couch. "So what do you want to say about last night, then? We'll certainly have to address it. The press has been pushing for a statement from you - and they need to know that you're okay. At least let me play on their sympathy, then."

The puppy-dog look Fin was receiving from his rather brash, younger staff member made him laugh softly. "Always trying for some sort of angle, are you?" he teased Kirk. "You want me to wrap a bandage around my head, too, to make it look more serious than it is?"

"Fin, it WAS serious," Brian reminded him softly. Despite their previous conversation, and even the assurance that Fin would be fine, he still couldn't get that heart-stopping moment out of his head. If the knife had only gone a few inches either way...His father sighing heavily brought him out of his reverie as he looked over at him.

"Brian, let's not go down that road again," Fin chided him as he turned to look at Kirk. "No offense, Kirk, but I don't need a speechwriter for a brief statement regarding what happened last night. I just need to provide a straightforward accounting of the facts, that's all."

"But they're going to want to know why he did it," Kirk persisted as he stood several feet away. "People don't just walk up and stab someone for no good reason. The man needs to be exposed for the homophobic prick that he is." Kirk was straight as the day was long, but he WAS passionate about one thing: when it came to injustices regarding sexual orientation - or any other irrelevant part of another person's lifestyle that didn't hurt or affect anyone else - he was extremely passionate about putting a stop to it. "Everyone needs to know that he did it as a result of his irrational, stupid bigotry. Maybe if the voters see what lengths some of these assholes will go to in an effort to prevent you from winning they will realize that they want no part of it and will vote for the candidate with the most expertise to run the state - which is you."

One corner of Fin's lips turned upward as he replied wryly, "I think his motive behind the attack will be blatantly obvious, Kirk, don't you? Most 'normal' people don't run around trying to stab political candidates for no reason."

"Maybe," Littleton conceded. "You're sure you don't want me to prepare some notes for you at least?"

"I think Fin's right," Brian told him from his place near his father. "He doesn't need notes to counterattack what that idiot did. I'm sure he can handle it extemporaneously just fine without any problems."

Fin nodded. "I agree totally - now let's go meet my 'adoring public' and get it over with." Brian walked the few steps over to his father as Fin placed his left hand on his son's shoulder. With a nod to his son, the four of them left Fin's inner sanctum to face the press.

* * *

_Same time - Liberty Diner_

Jennifer smiled as she entered the diner and recognized her son sitting at a nearby booth. Justin returned his smile with one of his own as she walked up to him.

"Hey, Mom," he greeted her as he reached up to grasp her by the shoulders and bestow a quick kiss on her cheek.

"Honey," she responded as she sat down across from him in the booth and eyed him intently. They were meeting Sean and Kathy later today to get reacquainted over lunch and to assure them that both Brian and Fin were doing okay, but before they did she wanted to make sure her only son was all right as well. Justin had already filled her in on what had happened to Fin and had reassured her that everything was fine. But she also knew that Justin was adept at hiding his worries from her and she could tell by the slight furrow of his brow that he was still concerned about both Fin and Brian's safety.

"Everything okay, Justin?" she asked him softly as she turned her white china mug over for coffee. She glanced around, not noticing Debbie anywhere in sight. In a way she was relieved, she thought guiltily, because as well-intentioned as her friend was she could be like a bulldog when it came to finding out information and she wanted a few, precious moments alone with her son first. "You look tired," she observed. "Fin's still all right?"

Justin nodded as she reached over to squeeze his hand briefly before letting it go. "Yes, I saw him this morning before I left to come home and he was doing okay. Just a little sore and stiff, but that's to be expected considering what happened." He shuddered slightly, hoping his mother wouldn't notice, as he recalled last night's events. In a way it seemed like ages ago, but in another it was like it had just happened. Either way he knew it was a moment he would never forget. "He and Brian dropped me off at the airport before heading into Harrisburg to campaign headquarters. Tony had to go back to his office for the day."

She nodded as she continued to quietly observe her son. "And you?"

He shrugged as he picked up his coffee mug and took a sip. "I'm fine," he answered, trying to sound nonchalant but suspecting he was doing a poor job of it. His mother always _did_ see right through his subterfuge. "Just a little tired like you said; I didn't exactly sleep well last night," he admitted, knowing it would be fruitless to state otherwise.

Jennifer nodded as a waitress she didn't recognize came over to fill her coffee mug and take their orders. As soon as the older woman had left, however, she stated, "You're still worried about both of them."

Justin sighed. "Of course I am; so is Tony. Do you blame us?"

"No, of course not," she reassured him with a tender smile. "I would feel the same way in your shoes. There're some crazy people in this world, Honey. But I don't have to tell YOU that, though; you have first-hand knowledge of it." The bashing, Craig's vitriolic tirades regarding Brian and their son's 'immoral lifestyle,' as well as all the other homophobes both she and her son ran into on a regular basis were more than clear evidence of that. "I can totally understand why you're concerned about their safety. But I know Brian's not the type to back down from a fight, either, and from what I've observed about your father-in-law I have a strong feeling that father and son are cut from the same cloth."

Justin nodded as he stared down at the table. That was certainly true enough. "Yeah," he murmured softly. "At least _his_ father has balls."

Jennifer pursed her lips tightly together, regret washing over her that her own husband - and her son's father - couldn't have been supportive of him the way that Fin was toward Brian. She reached over instinctively to clasp her son's hand just before she heard someone yelling to turn the television up; a few months ago the owner had decided it would help his business to install one unobtrusively in the corner of the room near the front entrance. Jennifer felt her son's hand tighten in her grip as the rather small breakfast crowd grew quiet; noticing her son's intense expression on his face, she half-twisted in her seat to observe a 'breaking news' banner scrawled at the bottom of the screen and an instantly familiar man facing a phalanx of media personnel from behind a sea of microphones.

The waitress who had taken their orders a little earlier grabbed the remote sitting on the counter next to the cash register and unmuted the television in time for everyone to hear Fin begin to speak; Brian was standing a few feet away to his father's right. It was hard to tell what both men were standing on just outside the doors of Fin's campaign headquarters, but apparently they had snared something in order to be seen above the burgeoning crowd of press reporters camped out on the sidewalk a few feet away.

Justin thought he recognized Don Meyers standing a few feet back from Fin, but the presence of his father-in-law's friend in charge of security did not fill him with confidence; it would be much too easy for some other lunatic to come walking up to Fin or Brian and finish what Stewart had begun last night. Why was more not being done to ensure that that didn't happen? Silently he broadcast a fervent message to both men to be careful and stay out of harm's way as Fin, wearing a smart-looking, custom-made, dark gray suit and open-necked, light gray shirt, began to speak to the crowd.

Obviously speaking off the cuff, Fin gazed evenly into the mass of bodies and began to describe the events of last night; he didn't embellish what he told the press who were clamoring for every possible salacious detail of what had happened; Fin, in fact, had to pause several times during his retelling of the experience as various members of the press rudely shouted out questions while he was trying to speak. To his credit, he remained unflappable, however, waiting for the din to die down before resuming his statement.

Justin knew his husband well enough to know that Brian was becoming increasingly perturbed; no doubt he was irritated by the media's brazen disregard of Fin's initial advisement that he would NOT be answering questions afterward. There was something else there, though, he couldn't help thinking. He could tell. Brian was agitated and restless, emotions that he normally strove hard not to convey during stressful times such as this; he thought they made him appear to be weak somehow. No, there was something else going on that he wasn't privy to. But he fully intended to find out just what it was as soon as he was able to.

He watched as Fin spoke succinctly about the events of last night, mentioning Adam Stewart as the perpetrator but declining to discuss the reasons why one of the members of his inner circle would see fit to attack him physically. He noticed that Brian was eyeing his father intently, undoubtedly wishing to tell the press exactly who Stewart was really after but choosing to remain silent. He knew Brian still felt awkward about his father getting hurt while saving him from serious injury, but Fin had been adamant earlier that he had nothing to feel guilty about.

"My God," Jennifer murmured across from him as Fin finished up his statement and he and Brian turned on their heels to go back inside. The press continued to shout out questions after they had left but quickly died back down and began to disperse when it became apparent that the candidate was sticking to his vow not to answer questions anytime soon. "Justin..." She gazed over at her son in disbelief. Even though her son had filled her in last night on what had happened - not wanting her to panic when she heard about it secondhand - she still couldn't fathom how the son of one of Fin's most trusted assistants had deceived everyone about his true feelings. "It's...it's..." She struggled to convey her true feelings as she peered into his troubled, blue eyes.

"Fucking incredible," he supplied, his lips pressed grimly together as she nodded in agreement. "Just a few more seconds...a little more time...and that bastard would have...shit," he muttered as he briefly covered his eyes with the palms of his hands, unable to even voice the thought aloud. He removed them a few seconds later to peer over at her and say, "Now you know why Tony and I are worried. He can't be the only whack job out there, Mom."

She nodded at him; it was useless to deny it, even though the last thing she wanted to do was worry her son even more. "I know," she replied softly. "I know." She paused for a moment, knowing it wouldn't do any good to ask Justin if that might be enough to make either Fin or Brian decide to quit. That word didn't seem to be in either of their vocabularies.

Justin sighed as he brushed his hand through his hair in frustration. Part of him wanted to lock Brian - and Fin - away for the rest of their lives while the other part knew that wouldn't work. Deep down he didn't want them to give up, either. "This has become a lot more dangerous than I ever thought possible, Mom," he admitted. "But we both know quitting isn't an option here. And I actually told Brian I agree with that, even though I'm scared shitless that someone else will pick up where Stewart left off."

"Can't they hire additional security?" his mother inquired.

Justin snorted. "That's what Brian told me they were going to do, but I didn't exactly see a lot more presence just then, did you?" His mother shook her head mutely as he let out a tense breath between his lips. Further conversation was halted just then, though, by the sound of a familiar, excited voice nearby.

"Sunshine! Jennifer!" Debbie squealed in delight as she came rushing up to them. From her button-festooned vest, colorful clothing and the pencil tucked behind her ear, it was apparent she was just now arriving for her shift at the diner.

"Hi, Deb," Justin greeted her with an affectionate smile as the red-haired woman bent down to give Justin a kiss on the cheek. With an apologetic smile, she brought her red-lacquered index finger up to his face to wipe the lipstick smear away as she nodded over at Jennifer. "Hey, Jen!" she greeted her as Jennifer returned her smile. "You two doing some catching up? If you want to live, stay away from the Blue Plate Special today," she cracked. "You'll need a chisel to cut through the sausage casing. I've told Stan a thousand times to buy a different brand of meat, but he never pays attention to me..."

Justin and his mother exchanged a glance, both knowing they might as well let Debbie finish up her speech about the diner's owner. It wouldn't do any good to interrupt her anyway. "We're just having coffee and some lemon bars," he reassured her as she nodded.

"I'm coming!" Debbie shouted in Justin's ear as the waitress who had served Justin and Jennifer called out her name. "Don't tie your tits in a knot! Now where was I?" she asked as she furrowed her brow. Her face brightened as she exclaimed, "Oh, yeah!" She leaned her elbow against the top of Justin's side of the booth as she asked, "Did you just get back from your road trip, Sunshine? I heard about what happened last night! Are Fin and Brian doing okay?"

Justin nodded, preferring to try and forget about it but knowing that was impossible. "They're both fine," he answered somewhat cryptically, glancing around Debbie at the television screen and noticing one of the major cable news networks' two anchors speaking. There was a 'new development' banner at the bottom with the words _Police Chief Implicated in Turner Briberies_ scrawling left to right in a marquee fashion. "What the fuck?" he whispered as he held up his hand for Debbie to be silent.

Miraculously she chose to obey him as she turned to see what he was so engrossed in. Justin's heart began to beat wildly as an all-too-familiar face appeared on the screen. "No fucking way..."

"Turn it up, Kiki!" Debbie demanded of her fellow waitress who was standing near the remote lying on the counter. A few seconds later the male part of the news anchor team could be heard saying, "Repeating. Reliable sources are telling us that James Stockwell, former police chief of Pittsburgh, has been implicated in providing funds to former gubernatorial candidate Richard Turner's campaign in connection with the two men who appeared at a recent press conference in an attempt to discredit both Turner's opposing candidate, Fintan O'Connor, as well as his son and campaign manager, Brian Kinney. We will have more information on this breaking news story as soon as it becomes available."

"Holy fuck," Debbie breathed out, her mouth hanging open in recollection as she stared up at twin photos of Turner and Stockwell displayed side by side on the television screen. "I should have known those two devil spawns separated at birth were up to no good together."

His friend's words slowly registered in Justin's brain as he turned to peer over at the redhead. "What did you say?"

Debbie's face flushed slightly as she admitted, "I was working the breakfast shift a few weeks ago and noticed the two of them sitting here together; hell, it was almost in the same booth you're sitting in now."

"What?" Justin exclaimed in surprise. "You saw Stockwell - with Turner - and you never said anything to me or Brian?"

Debbie was quick to explain, "At the time I only recognized Stockwell, Sunshine; I had no idea the other man was Turner until I saw him a few days later. By then the two of you were out on the road with the Senator. I had no idea what they were up to - I just figured that ass Stockwell was aligning himself with anyone who was opposed to Brian and his father just to get back at him; I didn't know the man was actually bankrolling Turner's scheme." She eyed Justin sympathetically. "You know if I had any idea that they were conspiring to do either Brian or his father harm I would have told you right away. I actually walked off my shift that day in protest; I refused to come anywhere _near_ that asshole." She gazed into her friend's eyes - the eyes that always told so much about his emotions - and she saw just the hint of anger there. "You do believe that, don't you, Kiddo?"

Justin let out a heavy breath between his lips and finally nodded to Debbie's relief. "Yeah, I believe you," he assured her, knowing she would never do anything to deliberately cause them any hurt or harm. "I'm still trying to wrap my own head around his involvement in this whole thing." He shook his head in repulsion. "I thought we were done with that man a long time ago. Fuck. Is there no end to this?"

Debbie reached down and affectionately squeezed the young man's shoulder; Justin had become as much a son to her as her own son Michael was, and just with her biological son she always hated to see him upset. "I'm sorry, Sunshine," she murmured. "I know this whole thing has to be so hard on you."

Justin swallowed hard; if she only knew the half of it. Even HE hadn't realized how difficult the entire experience would be. At that moment he physically ached to have Brian back home with him. It seemed like an eternity since they had been in Ireland on their honeymoon. What a wonderful, blissfully happy time that had been for them! He sighed wistfully, suddenly needing to feel Brian's arms around him and hear his words of reassurance and love. Inexplicably feeling like he was being smothered somehow, he slid across the booth's slick, vinyl surface and stood up. "I have to get out of here," he told them. I'm going to go take a walk. Would you excuse me?"

"Justin?" Jennifer asked softly in concern, instantly discerning his expression; it was hauntingly similar to right after his bashing so long ago.

"I'm okay," he told her firmly as he split his attention between her and Debbie. "I just need to get some fresh air. It's feeling very _rank_ in here all of a sudden." He sighed. "I'll call you later, Mom." To make sure she knew he wasn't upset with her, Justin reached over to pull Debbie over by the scruff of her neck and bestow a quick kiss on her cheek. "I'll bring Gus by one day to see you," he told her with a soft smile. "He's been craving one of your strawberry milkshakes lately." That wasn't exactly the truth - Gus DID like the way that Debbie made them - but he hadn't mentioned them recently.

Debbie nodded back at him with a relieved smile of her own as the two women watched him turn around and leave. As he opened the diner's door and escaped, Debbie turned to her friend with a sigh of her own. "It's going to be a long summer."

* * *

_Three Hours Later - Fin's Campaign Headquarters  
_

"Well, looks like the jackals finally gave up on getting any more information," Kirk announced as he walked into the building and deposited two paper bags of deli sandwiches on top of Fin's desk. "The coast is clear, gentlemen. I think they've moved their focus down to police headquarters for the time being."

Fin nodded from his position behind his desk; his custom-made suit jacket had long ago been haphazardly draped across the back of the couch and the sleeves of his silk shirt pushed up to his elbows as he and Brian had spent the last few hours strategizing their next moves. Both of them had decided that the events of last night, coupled with Stockwell being implicated in Turner's now-backfired scheme to discredit them, could only be positive for their campaign. They had discussed just how much to exploit the other party's weakness before deciding to rise above all the hatred and homophobic nonsense and stick to the important issues of the campaign. While Turner's pathetic attempts to paint them in a bad light might have had a critical influence on the outcome of the campaign, the man's withdrawal, coupled with Whittle's entry into the race, meant this was their best course of action. Whittle was not inept or inexperienced as Turner had been; he would not allow himself to be influenced by bigoted cronies and thus he would prove to be a more difficult opponent to overcome.

"Well, at least we didn't have to be the ones to implicate Stockwell after all," Fin observed dryly. "Our inside contact is still safely unknown. I should have guessed the press would figure that out on their own somehow."

"It's just as well," Brian decided from his place on the couch; he was thoughtfully twirling a Montblanc ballpoint pen in his hand. "I'm glad _someone_ rooted it out; it saves us the dilemma of what to do with the information, and now the fucker's going to be in a shitload of trouble. His sorry ass can just go back from where it crawled out of now."

Fin grinned. "I don't think that will be a problem; from what I heard when Art called me back, Stockwell's going to have a lot of explaining to do when the Election Fraud Commission and the District Attorney's office get through with him. I think the only décor he'll be seeing soon are four concrete walls and a slab floor."

Brian harrumphed. "Son of a bitch," he muttered in contempt. "I'd be glad to personally give him a shove back into his fucking cell." He sighed in rephension as he rose from his place on the couch, placing his hands at the small of his back and leaning his torso backward to stretch out his stiff muscles.

"You heading back home?" Fin asked him softly. He knew Brian had to be worn out, just like he was, not only by the day's events but from being at the hospital so late last night. He also knew Brian wanted to get home to Justin and decompress for a while, just like he was yearning to do with Tony.

Brian nodded at his father. "Yeah. I need to go check in on my businesses to make sure they haven't been run into the ground," he deadpanned, even though he knew with Cynthia and Ted leading the reins they were in good hands. That had certainly made his decision to step back from them and run his father's campaign a lot easier. "I'll be back in plenty of time for the next debate next week and you can reach me by my cell if something critical comes up in the meantime."

Fin nodded as his son walked up and extended his hand. He paused for just a second before he reached over to firmly clasp it and offer a soft smile. So many emotions flittered across his face as he looked into his son's eyes - gratitude, respect, and yes, love - and he thought, or at least hoped, that Brian's face reflected the same. They held their grip for a few seconds longer before, with a slight nod to his father as well as Kirk and Mark, he turned and quietly left the room to catch the taxi out front that had been summoned for him.

Fin watched him go for a few seconds longer until Brian had opened and closed the door behind him before letting out a deep breath. "Okay, Gentlemen, I think we've had enough excitement for the time being - _too_ much excitement," he added wryly. "I'm heading back home for a while. If anything critical comes up you know where to find me."

* * *

Brian blew out a pregnant breath as, with a cursory nod at the bustling campaign staff, he opened the door to leave the building, taking a quick glance around the outside to make sure that the press had, indeed, finally dispersed. To his relief, he saw nothing except for typical pedestrian and vehicle traffic for the slightly out-of-the-way downtown street, along with something _else_ he recognized. Or should he say _someone_ else.

In a déjà vu moment, he glanced down at the corner alcove of the building a few feet away, instantly recognizing the slight figure sitting there with his hands curled around his ankles. This time the kid was wearing a faded hoodie that might have been black at some point but was now more of a dark gray color. The hood was framing his smudged face, with a few wisps of what could be blond or light brown hair poking out underneath. He was sporting a pair of dusty-looking jeans with two frayed holes in the knees and a pair of Keds that had seen much better days in the past; his shoelaces were hanging down on either side of the sneakers which appeared to be two sizes too big for him. A crumpled duffel bag of a military-green color lay balled up by his feet.

A pair of dark-blue, piercing eyes peered over at him with a mixture of distrust as well as curiosity; Brian was surprised by their vibrancy given the circumstances and was struck by how they reminded him of someone _else_'s blue eyes, even though Justin's were more of a lighter sapphire color. The obstinate, fearless type of expression staring back at him, however, was very much like his partner's at times. He recognized, however, that looks could be deceiving, though. He had lost count of how many times he had plastered that same look on his OWN face when he was growing up and his father was being a total shit to him (that is, when he wasn't beating the tar out of him after being in a drunken tirade).

"Fancy meeting YOU here," Brian intoned as he peered down at the kid who was squinting slightly to avoid staring at him directly into the sun. Brian shifted his stance just enough to block out the blinding rays as the boy met his gaze evenly. "Time for breakfast again?"

"Fuck off," was the unexpectedly rebellious reply as the kid glared back at him. "Last time I looked this was a public street." The voice was surprisingly strong for such a rather small form.

Brian snorted. _Little shit. _"Well, this isn't a _public street_. It's a sidewalk, emphasis on the _walk_. So why don't you be a good little boy and just take a hike?"

The kid stared up at him defiantly, brilliant blue eyes flashing. "You're not my keeper. YOU go take a hike and leave me the fuck alone."

Brian bristled at the kid's insolence briefly, but something in the tone of his voice made him pause. How often had he tried the same tactic with his own mother and father when he had been growing up in an attempt to make it seem like he didn't care when they belittled him, beat him, or made him feel like he was two inches tall? The truth was that despite their loathsome behavior at the time he DID care; shit, he had still loved them for some reason back then even when they DID treat him like dirt. Because at the time they were the only parents he had.

Of course that had been before he had grown up and discovered that he had a father that really DID care about him. That knowledge now made him able to look back on his past and realize that what he had growing up with Jack and Joan Kinney wasn't love; it was more like thinly-veiled tolerance. That knowledge made him sick to his stomach now and made him enormously grateful as well as relieved to know that they hadn't been his parents in any sense of the word at all.

As he studied the insolent-looking face glaring up at him, now, though, something occurred to him. Wasn't he guilty of doing the same thing to this kid? And was this boy feeling the same things that he himself had felt at that same age?

Letting out a breath between his lips, he trod the few steps over closer toward the boy and squatted down in front of him. Now that they were on an eye-to-eye level, he could see the tired lines etched around the kid's long-lashed eyes and the firm pursing of the lips that slightly quivered in reaction; his dirty hands grasped the sides of his denim legs tightly as if he were trying to escape into himself, to a place where no one else could find him. _Yeah...I know that look, kid._ It was almost like looking at a mirror back in time...

"What are you doing out on the streets anyway?" he asked quietly. He watched as the kid turned his head away from him to peer out into the street nearby, a part vacant/part thoughtful look on his face.

"Why do you want to know?" was the curt reply as the kid continued to gaze out onto the street traffic. "It's none of your fucking business what I do."

"Yes, it is," Brian maintained as he placed his hands on top of his thighs to balance himself, oblivious to the occasional passerby who glanced down at the oddly-matched pair as they went by. "You're on private property for one thing and you're obviously not in school. So why are you here?"

"I like the scenery," was the smart-aleck response as the urchin finally turned his gaze back to Brian. "So now that you've solved one of life's greatest mysteries, you can go about your business and leave me the fuck alone."

Brian sighed. Why was he bothering? Why should be even care? But something about this kid reminded him painfully of himself so he plodded on nonetheless. "Where do you stay at night? Where do you sleep?"

The kid snorted softly. "What's sleep?" He turned his head away when Brian caught a glimpse of tears forming in his eyes as he added in a voice that belied his tender years, "Out here you don't sleep if you want to stay alive."

_God_. Brian's heart clenched. Even when he was around this kid's age and being treated like a piece of squashed gum on Jack Kinney's shoe he at least always had a place to sleep at night. Flashes of how he would feel if his own son had to go through what this kid apparently had to endure every day popped into his mind before he swallowed hard. He couldn't imagine his own child having to go through this; what the hell had happened in this kid's life to make him feel that this was preferable to everything else?

Brian bit his lip thoughtfully as he looked around their surroundings. He couldn't see anywhere that this child could have come from - no drop-in shelters, no orphanages, only dirty, somewhat-neglected storefronts and an occasional brownstone apartment building. "Where are your parents?" he asked softly.

"Gone," the kid answered curtly.

"Gone? Where?"

"To fucking hell, I hope." The kid stared up at Brian intently, his eyes moist; there was an unexpected hitch to his voice as he asked, "Why the fuck do you care? I'm not bothering anyone."

"No," Brian conceded. "But a kid your age doesn't belong out here on their own. What exactly do you mean in hell? They're dead?" As the kid shifted his hands from around his ankles, for the first time Brian noticed what appeared to be a burn mark on the boy's inner wrist and his eyes widened.

The kid considered how to reply to that question. It had been a long time since he had been asked that. But there was something in this man's voice that actually sounded suspiciously like genuine caring and concern. "Yeah..." He finally answered warily. "Dead. Buried ten feet into the fucking ground where they belong."

_So there was no love lost there_, Brian observed. "How?"

The kid eyed Brian carefully before finally responding, "Shot up with some bad heroin. I...I tried to wake them up. Why I don't know, but I did." He turned his face back toward the street, slowly traveling back a year in time to when it had happened. "When I touched them and they...they were cold as ice, I knew they weren't coming back."

Brian's heart skipped a beat. It had been a long time now since he had even used any drugs and he had always been so careful about where - and who - he got them from. Could this have happened to him, though, if he had continued? And how would he have felt if GUS had been the one to find him like that? He swallowed the hard lump in this throat as he nodded. "So what happened after that?"

The boy shook his head in doubt. "Why do you _care_? You don't know me."

"Just tell me," Brian urged him, completely forgetting for the moment that his private pilot was probably wondering what was taking him so long to get to the airport.

"Nothing. Nothing happened," the kid answered as he peered into the expressive hazel eyes. "I...I grabbed a few things and left."

Brian's eyes widened. "Just like that? Why? You did nothing wrong."

The kid shrugged. "My parents stole all kinds of things to feed their drug habit. I was tired of dealing with it and didn't want the police taking me to juvie hall or some foster parents. I can take care of myself; been doing it for almost a year now," he said almost proudly.

Brian gazed at him in amazement. A YEAR? This kid had been living on the streets for a fucking YEAR? "But how do you survive, especially in the winter?" he wondered. Thoughts of Michael and Ben's son, Hunter, filtered through his mind. Was this how this kid survived, too? By selling his own body for food and shelter? "You don't, uh, you know..." For once Brian's normal glibness evaded him.

The kid snorted. "You mean hustle?" he asked as Brian nodded silently. "I'm better than that," was the smug reply. "I'm the best dumpster diver in town. I teach OTHER kids how to do it. You'd be surprised what restaurants and grocery stores throw out. And there's enough abandoned cars and buildings around to stay in, as long as you don't overstay your welcome." He didn't tell this man that he had spent plenty a night scared shitless out of his mind as odd, strange noises assailed his hearing or he scurried into a dark alcove somewhere just in time to evade someone else who was pursuing shelter for the night, or who wanted a quick fuck with him. He had long ago lost track of when he could say he actually had had a decent night's sleep or a real meal. His last real, non-garbage food had probably been when this same man had left a five for him before.

Brian was skeptical of the kid's cockiness; his boastfulness was tempered by a hint of uncertainty and insecurity. He most of all knew people were adept at exuding confidence sometimes that wasn't really there; hell, he was the consummate master of it at times - that was how he managed to secure so many advertising accounts, along with his sharp business acumen. He knew this kid was definitely acting more assured than he really was. He knelt there, pondering exactly what to do and wondering why he even cared before he finally told him, "Well, you can't just stay here forever."

The kid's eyes narrowed in suspicion. "You gonna call the fucking cops on me just for sitting here?"

Brian sighed. "No, I'm not the truancy police," he assured him. He remembered that the weatherman had earlier mentioned that while it was sunny temporarily, a cold front would be approaching this afternoon, bringing the threat of severe weather and at least an inch of rain. Despite this kid's bravado, he couldn't imagine the boy finding a decent place to stay in such order and the thought of him hunched up in this corner trying to stay dry made him feel terrible. He couldn't very well take him home with him, though, and he didn't quite trust him enough to let him stay inside Fin's headquarters. So what the hell was he supposed to do? He could just walk away and act like he didn't care, but the truth was he DID care. He saw too much of himself in this kid to ignore him.

A decision made, then, he stood up, groaning softly at the stiffness in his legs AND his back now. He vowed to persuade Justin to give him a nice, long massage when he got home to rectify that problem before he said, "Well, get up. You're not staying here."

"I thought you said..."

"I didn't say I was going to the police," he told the kid huffily. He reached inside his pocket to retrieve his cellphone. "You need somewhere to sleep, something to eat, and most of all a fucking bath. Get up." There was no hint of choice in the command.

The kid eyed him intently. This man, this stranger, was going to put him up somewhere for the night? Just like that? "I'm not doing you any _favors_," was the reply. "You're nice looking, but way too old for me. You can forget it if that's what you want." He tried hard to make himself sound self-assured, but inside he was scared shitless that this man - who _seemed_ sympathetic - was after something else altogether. For just a moment he had really believed he was different.

To his surprise, Brian chuckled at his response. "Thanks for the back-handed compliment, but that's the _furthest_ thing from my mind," he assured him. "I like 'em young, but you're WAY too young for me, trust me. Besides, I already HAVE a 'hot little thing' back home who keeps me quite satisfied."

The kid's brow lifted in revelation. "You're a fag, aren't you?"

Brian grinned at the unexpected slang term that fell from the young mouth and how this kid didn't pull any punches. "Yeah, I'm a fag through and through. Got a problem with that, kid?"

The boy shrugged. "No, I don't give a shit WHAT you are."

Brian smiled. "Well, that's refreshing considering who I've been dealing with lately." He flipped his phone open to call a moderately-priced hotel from his list; he never set foot in such places, but they had come in handy lately from time-to-time for other members of Fin's staff who had come in from out of town to help out. He spoke briefly to the person answering the phone to reserve a single room before snapping the phone shut. He was somewhat surprised to see that the kid had finally rose from his sitting position and now had his tattered duffel bag hanging from one slender shoulder. Brian thought the kid looked decidedly too thin but kept his observations to himself as he nodded. "Come on - it's only a block or two down that way."

"We're going to walk there?"

Brian snorted. "For someone who's homeless, you're pretty particular. If I can handle it, YOU can handle it," he assured him. "You want some decent food, a bed for a few nights, and a bath or not?"

"A _few _nights?" The kid couldn't help the hopeful response. Was this man actually going to pay for him to stay in a hotel for more than one night? "What's the catch?" he asked warily.

Brian rolled his eyes as he began to leave. "Will you stop with the twenty questions? How many times do I have to tell you? No catch. I'm going back home for a few days and I don't want to have to worry about YOU in the meantime. Now are we going or not? This is your last chance; I have a plane to catch." He stood there, hands on his hips, as he waited for the kid to make up his mind. If he was as smart and astute as he _thought_ he was, there could be only one answer.

The kid stared after his companion's slowly-retreating back for a few more seconds before slowly he began to follow him from what he considered a safe distance. Brian glanced back enough to see that he was, indeed, being followed and smiled a little in triumph.

He turned around for just a moment to ask, "By the way, my name's Brian. What's yours?"

The kid paused in his tracks to ponder how to reply. The smart-aleck response that he wanted to say for some reason didn't escape his lips as he stood there silently eyeing his benefactor.

"Well? I know you're not deaf. Was that a particularly hard question? I assume it's not some state secret or something. I repeat - what's your name?"

The kid let out a heavy breath of resignation. After what this stranger was willing to do for him, he supposed he owed him that much at least. Besides, how would he know if he was telling him the truth or not? There was no way he could possibly check. For some reason, he didn't see the need to be disingenuous as he replied simply with a one-word answer, "Alex."

Brian nodded, heartened somewhat by this small victory. Wondering if that was REALLY the kid's name or he just made it up, he decided for the time being that it didn't matter either way. "Okay. Alex. Let's go."

Slowly the two of them walked down the sidewalk toward their destination, both unaware that this chance meeting would change both of their lives forever.

* * *

_Britin - Early Evening_

Justin's pulse quickened at the sound of a car door slamming inside the garage; placing the large knife down on the wooden butcher block that he was using to cut vegetables on, he hurriedly wiped off his hands with a dark blue kitchen towel before rushing over toward the door that separated the garage from the house.

He arrived there just as Brian opened the door and stepped inside. Brian had just enough time to put his leather laptop tote down on the small desk next to the door before he was enveloped by a body plastered firmly against his and two arms wrapped around him like a vise.

"Hey," Brian murmured as his own arms wound around Justin's body and he pulled him closer against him, placing his chin on the soft blond hair. He stood there for several seconds, sensing that his husband needed his embrace as much as HE needed his, before he finally pulled back to gaze down into the warm blue eyes.

Their mouths seemed to move as one as they came together and kissed deeply; it would be several more seconds before they both reluctantly pulled away, still holding each other in their arms. "You okay?" Brian asked Justin softly as he stared into his eyes.

Justin nodded as Brian's hands came up to frame his face between them. "I am now that you're back home," he told him, savoring the touch of his husband's strong, warm hands on his cheeks as Brian's fingers caressed his skin. He noticed the slight lines etched across his forehead. "You look worn out," he told him.

Brian dropped his hands to rest his arms on either side of Justin's neck as he nodded. 'Yeah, it's been a fucking long day," he told him. He paused for a moment before asking, "I assume you heard?" It had been so crazy today that he hadn't had a chance to talk to Justin on the phone about everything that had happened, and he had a lot to discuss with him.

Justin idly caressed Brian's lower back as he asked, "You mean about Stockwell?" Just the mention of the man's voice made his blood pressure rise even now and a sour taste emerge in his mouth. He still couldn't comprehend how the man had gotten out of jail.

Brian nodded. "I meant to call you after I first heard about it, but it was so crazy today...Besides, there wasn't anything either one of us could do. Still makes me mad as hell, though."

"I know," Justin said softly. "It makes me angry, too. The only thing that makes me able to tolerate it at all is the idea that his ass will wind up back in jail again soon."

"Count on it," Brian vowed. "I won't rest until I know that asshole is back where he belongs; he never should have gotten out in the first place."

Justin nodded as he let out a heavy-laden breath. "I'm just glad you're home," he told him. "I know we just saw each other this morning, but..."

Brian reached and placed his left index finger gently over the soft mouth to say, "I feel the same way. You have NO idea..."

Justin caught Brian's hand in his own and kissed the knuckles briefly before bringing their clasped hands together between their chests. "What?"

Brian shook his head with a tender smile. "It can wait," he assured him. "Let's talk about it later. I just want to relax for a while." He inhaled a nearby, familiar scent and his lips turned up knowingly. "That smells suspiciously like my favorite dish, Mr. Taylor-Kinney. How did you even know I'd be home in time to eat it?"

Justin blushed slightly, knowing he had been caught. "I didn't...Call it wishful thinking instead." He reached up and slowly slid Brian's leather jacket off his shoulders, draping it carefully over the back of the wooden desk chair. "Why don't you go sit down in the study and fix yourself a drink? Dinner should be ready soon."

"I have a better idea," Brian suggested. "Why don't you put that chicken fettuccine on 'warm' and come upstairs and take a shower with me? I think that would relax me even MORE." He waggled his eyebrows suggestively as Justin smiled.

"You're sooooo transparent," he teased him as Brian curled his lips under boyishly. "Let's see...chicken fettuccine or a shower with my gorgeous husband, shower with my gorgeous husband or chicken fettuccine...hmmm...that's a tough call," Justin hesitated just long enough to evoke a raised eyebrow from Brian in incredulity.

"Okay, you convinced me," Justin conceded at last. "I'll go put the food on simmer and you go get the water ready," he told him.

Brian grinned as he bent down and kissed Justin lightly on the nose before he let him go. "Just don't take too long - my 'simmer' cycle is a lot shorter than the stove's," he warned him. Justin snorted and received a quick slap on his ass as he turned around to walk toward the gourmet appliance. Brian admired the view briefly before, pulling at his neck as if his sweater were too tight, he turned to walk toward the hallway to ascend the stairs. "I'll be waiting...impatiently," he called out as he began to climb up the steps.

Justin turned the pan on the stove down to its lowest setting and gave it one more stir with a large, wooden spoon before he turned around to follow Brian upstairs.

* * *

_Three Hours Later_

Justin lay on his stomach, his torso draped over Brian's chest as he lay his head down against the taut, warm skin and listened to the steady beat of his husband's heart, so strong and so reassuring. He noticed that Brian had been inexplicably quiet before, during and after their lovemaking. It wasn't unusual for Brian to be somewhat quiet afterward, but he was normally quite vocal beforehand when he enjoyed telling him exactly what he had in mind for them, and during sex he normally would at least utter a few cries of his name and a grunt or groan here and there. Tonight, though, each time they had made love (once in the shower, twice in bed), Brian's touch had been as tender as ever and his eyes held the same type of devotion for him that they always did, but he had been strangely reserved.

Justin lifted his head high enough to look into Brian's face, seeing the hazel eyes staring intently back at him. "You've been awfully quiet tonight," he whispered. "Want to tell me what you've been thinking about?" He scooted up on his hands, palms down on either side of Brian's body, to get a better look at his face and braced himself on his husband's upper arms. "You're not having second thoughts about running your father's campaign, are you?"

Brian shook his head. "No, you know me better than that," he gently chided him. "I don't back down from a fight, especially one as important as this one." He reached down with his left hand to lightly feather Justin's hair at the back of his neck, the strands still slightly sweaty from their last lovemaking session. "I'm not going anywhere until he comes out victorious this fall." This was no hesitation in his assessment of his father's chances as he spoke; Fin WOULD win - there could be no other conclusion.

Justin nodded. "I didn't _think_ that was it. Then what? Is it the same thing that was bothering you before dinner?"

Brian gazed into the eyes that were his anchor, his constant, and his steady source of support. On the way home from the airport, he found his thoughts constantly straying to the kid he had run into once more at the front of Fin's campaign headquarters. Why did that continue to bother him so much? Why did he care? He suspected the reason why but did not want to voice it aloud.

"Brian?"

Brian blinked as he refocused on Justin's look of concern. He took his hand from behind his husband's neck and gently caressed his cheek in reassurance. "It's not that big a deal," he told him. "It's...It's just this kid."

Justin frowned, not knowing quite what to expect but taken aback by that answer. "Kid? What kid?"

Brian sighed as he placed his hand back at the scruff of his husband's neck and resumed his feathering of Justin's hair; he did that so often he sometimes didn't even realize he was doing it, but it was one of his favorite activities where Justin was concerned. "There was this kid - this homeless kid - who I've found camped out twice now in front of Fin's campaign headquarters by the front door. The first time was several days ago. He asked me for a five and I wasn't going to give it to him, but I did anyway," he admitted. He twisted one part of his lips up as he explained, "He looked skinny as hell like he hadn't eaten in a while, so I thought he might be hungry."

Justin smiled softly at him over his tenderheartedness, not exactly surprised. Brian never HAD been the coldhearted, non-feeling bastard that people sometimes wanted to accuse him of being. He had nailed him accurately from the start. Brian always HAD felt things deeply - he just demonstrated how he felt differently than most people. That didn't mean that he didn't feel the same emotions just like everyone else did. "You said you ran into him _twice_? You saw him again today, then?"

Brian nodded. "Yeah, when I was leaving to come home. There he was again, curled up in the same corner, wearing a ratty old hoodie and staring over at me again with this smug, arrogant look of defiance. I told him to take a hike and he promptly told me to fuck off."

Justin giggled as Brian glared down at him. "Sorry," he told him sheepishly. "But you have to admit it's pretty funny. He reminds me of someone ELSE I know. And he certainly doesn't sound like the timid type around you."

Brian huffed. "Not quite." He gazed down at Justin before he admitted, "I should have just turned around and left him there when he said that...But I couldn't for some reason."

Justin nodded, figuring that was what Brian was going to tell him. He could tell there was something about this kid that was bothering him. "So what did you do?"

He paused. "I wound up taking him down the street to a hotel and putting him up for the next few nights until I return."

Justin's eyes grew wide. "You did _what_? Brian, you don't know that kid! Why would you do that?"

Brian struggled to explain; even with Justin, the one person he could be totally candid with, his reasons might seem odd. "He reminded me of when I was his age. I found out both his parents died on the same day after shooting up heroin and overdosing. He took off before the cops got there because he was afraid of being taken into foster care. Justin, the boy's apparently been living on the street for the past YEAR. I can't even imagine having to do that. Even when my own parents treated me like shit - well, who I THOUGHT were my parents - I always had somewhere to go, even if I had to run over to Michael's house to escape. This kid apparently has no one and nowhere to go. I couldn't just leave him like that...Could I?"

Justin reached over to still his husband's lips with a touch of his fingers as he shook his head slightly. "No, you couldn't," he reassured him, not sure if the boy had been upfront with Brian and wondering how truthful the kid had been. Brian was normally a good judge of character, but it was possible this boy's supposed plight had colored his judgment somewhat. Perhaps it didn't really matter, though - the important thing was that it made Brian feel better and he loved him even more for his concern. Brian had told him a lot about his childhood, but he suspected there were still a lot of things he hadn't told him yet. In a way, he was a little envious of Michael for probably knowing more than he did about that horrible time in his husband's life, but he also knew that Brian's love for him was strong and deep. When he was ready, he would tell him. And in the meantime, he would be there ready to listen. "You did what you needed to do," he told him. "And I love you for that." Brian kissed his fingers, the vibration of his lips causing Justin's heart to flip-flop as he asked, "What are you going to do when you get back, though? He can't just stay there at that hotel forever, and he can't camp out on Fin's doorstep permanently, either. Something will have to be done with him."

Brian sighed as he gripped Justin's hand, the paler fingers curling over his as he lay their intertwined hands down on his chest and squeezed the smaller one. "I'm not sure," he admitted. "I can't turn him into the police to go to foster care. I just can't do that, Justin." He shuddered at the thought. He had never had to endure foster care - and he supposed there _were_ some decent foster parents - but he had seen how adamant this Alex was about not going there and he wouldn't do it. Where the boy WOULD go, however, was still a quandary. "I left my credit card information on file with the hotel and strict orders NOT to let the brat turn the pay T.V. on and even allow him access to the minibar in the room. I gave him just enough money to get something to eat each day at one of the nearby fast food restaurants and told him if he ran out of money it was tough shit. At least he'll have somewhere to sleep and take a shower in the meantime - the kid was not only scrawny but filthy and stinky as hell."

Justin gazed into his eyes, one corner of his mouth turned up. "So you bought him some new clothes, too."

Brian shrugged. "Well, they had a clothes boutique in the hotel's arcade," he explained. "I just bought him one complete outfit and something to sleep in, that's all."

Justin nodded, figuring that 'one complete outfit' and sleepwear probably set his husband back a pretty penny. Brian didn't do _anything_ cheap. "Uh, huh," he murmured as he reached up with his spare hand and brushed some hair back from Brian's face. With him being so busy on the campaign trail, Brian hadn't had time for his regular trim; his hair was longer than normal as a result and he was finding it sexy as hell. "I like your hair longer, by the way," he told Brian unexpectedly as he twisted some of the auburn strands around his middle finger. He trailed his hand down the bronze face to trace the slight stubble along Brian's jaw as he added, "And I like this unshaven look, too. Looks incredibly hot on you."

Brian grinned impishly back at him. "HOW hot?" he asked huskily as he continued to lazily play with Justin's own hair at the back of his neck.

"_VERY _hot. Makes your husband very horny as a result - that and not seeing you all day."

"HOW horny?"

Justin wriggled on top of Brian, causing the brunet to groan softly in response. "Why don't I show you?"

* * *

_A/N: Sorry about the longer-than-normal delay; just got back from the QAF con in Germany (what an experience!), but I should be back on track now. __As always, I thank you for your readership and ongoing support.:)_


	27. What is a Real Family?

_A/N: Brian and Justin take some much-needed down time at Britin to relax with their family. Justin confesses one of his most desired wishes to his mother before he is presented with some shocking news._

* * *

_Two days later - Back Patio at Britin  
_

"Justin, I told you I need about thirty more minutes," Brian scolded his husband as he saw him approaching with an oval platter in his hands. "Perfection takes time."

Justin snorted as he walked up to him. "It's taking an awful long time to complete your masterpieces, then; that's why I thought you talked me into having the Taj Mahal of patio grills installed so it would speed things up."

Brian turned around to wave his oversized spatula at his husband as he reminded him, "WHOSE idea was it to have an entire outdoor patio kitchen installed? Huh?" He cocked one eyebrow in question.

Justin grinned back at him sheepishly. "Well...Maybe you have a point." A few months ago, when Brian had been out of town on business for a few days, Justin had surprised him by having a custom-made, fully-equipped patio kitchen installed on the right side of the back patio, complete with a gourmet, multi-burner, stainless-steel grill, a single sink, a compact refrigerator, and even a place for ice storage.

At the time, Justin had explained it away by saying that he had done it for Brian, who had become addicted to grilling out on a frequent basis, even in the winter, but Brian knew the truth. Justin had done it because he was itching to use it for outdoor entertaining of friends and family. His husband adored having people that he loved over for dinner and drinks, and he knew that was likely the REAL reason for such a grandiose gift. Either way, though, Brian had decided that he had come out the winner, because he got to play with his favorite stainless steel, macho 'toy' and it made Justin happy, too.

Today merely served to make his point regarding the real motive behind the extravagance. Deciding that all of them had had enough drama lately, Justin had invited several people out to the house for a lunchtime extravaganza, appointing Brian as 'head cook' and Gus as 'assistant cook.' He had even found a miniature chef's outfit for Brian's son to wear when he arrived, complete with a floppy, white paper chef's hat a la the Pillsbury Doughboy and a child's apron that said "Top Chef in Training."

Brian leaned in to kiss the tip of Justin's nose as he pulled back to say, "Now go make some potato salad or macaroons or whatever the fuck you happy little hubbies like to serve, and let the expert finish with the meat."

"Well, you're the expert when it comes to meat, all right," Justin teased him as he noticed what Brian was wearing and smiled in fond remembrance of how he had gotten it. "You're wearing Gus's Father's Day present."

Brian nodded with a smile of his own as he turned back to his grill to flip over some of the hamburger patties. Gus had been beaming with happiness back then when he had presented him with a black apron that depicted a hamburger with all the fixings and the words "Top Pop" written above it. Ever since that day, Brian had worn it proudly whenever Gus was around and even when he _wasn't_. Justin suspected he was more proud of that gift than any multi-million advertising account he had ever acquired for Kinnetik.

Justin wound his arms around Brian's waist from behind. "You old softy," he whispered. "I think you look hot in that apron. I love you, by the way." He kissed Brian's neck as his husband took his free hand and placed it on top of Justin's briefly to give them a squeeze.

"Yeah, well, I happen to know someone who loves YOU, too," Brian whispered back as he turned his head to brush his lips against Justin's cheek, taking a moment to relish his sweet, intoxicating scent. "The local outdoor furniture store."

Justin harrumphed back at him before he smacked him on the chest. Brian chuckled as he twisted his head just enough to kiss his soft, full lips before he turned back to his task.

Justin smiled, mollified, before reluctantly letting Brian go, knowing he still had a lot to do before their guests arrived. They were expecting Fin and Tony, Sean and Kathy with Gus, his mother, and someone else who he had not been expecting until Tony had informed him they would be having one additional 'guest.' "I meant to tell you, by the way; Tony called a little while ago to ask if Danny could join us."

Brian frowned. "Danny? As in _private dick_ Danny?" When Justin nodded, he asked, "You think he's coming out here because he heard I make the juiciest burgers in West Virginia?"

One side of Justin's lips curled up as he remarked dryly, "Well, as true as that is, I don't think that's the main reason." He sobered somewhat as he told Brian, "I asked Tony about it, and he only said it was best that Danny tell us in person. Sounded kind of ominous to me."

Brian finished flipping over the last hamburger before he turned around, still holding the metal spatula in his hand. "Now don't go getting overly melodramatic, Sunshine," he told him. "It's probably just some more dry information about good old Marv's finances, or the latest schmuck that Kip has fucked over."

Justin eyed him skeptically. "Maybe; but if that were the case I think Tony could have just gotten the information from him and relayed it to us himself. No, I think there's more to it than that; I can feel it."

Brian shrugged. "Well, I guess we'll just have to wait and see then, _Princess Leia,_" he teased him as Justin snorted. He reached over with his free hand to lightly caress Justin's cheek. "My philosophy is don't overthink it, or worry about it until we have something to actually worry _about_, okay?"

Justin nodded in agreement before he replied, "Yeah, I guess we have enough to worry about already." He sighed, deciding for today at least he was going to take Brian's advice and not worry about everything going on regarding the campaign. "Everybody should be here soon." He placed the platter down next to Brian on the counter. "I'll leave the chef in peace, then," he told him with another smile.

Brian nodded as Justin turned to go, glancing over at the platter his husband had left for him and smirking. It was the same platter that Justin had 'smuggled' in his luggage from their honeymoon; the little shit seemed to find ways to subtly display it whenever he could, much to his vexation. Right now, it almost felt like their honeymoon had been years ago instead of months. And while he didn't want to worry Justin, secretly he was a little concerned about Danny making a personal appearance at the house, too; what was so important that he had to come out here to tell them? He silently hoped that perhaps it was something additional that might incriminate that moron, Stockwell, or maybe some financial corruption records regarding Turner, Telson, or _Kip the Inept Klutz_. Anything that would make ANY of those idiots look even worse was fine with him.

Reaching over with the spatula to lift up one of the large hamburger patties to place it on top of the "Ireland" platter, he decided to at least temporarily follow his own advice and concentrate, instead, on the more pleasant aspects of the afternoon - getting to see his family again and spend some leisure time with them, out of the spotlight's harsh glare.

* * *

Kathy laughed as Gus broke free from her hand to run toward Justin, who had opened the door and was standing there with a big smile of delight on his face.

"Hey, Little Man!" Justin greeted the boy as he squatted down just in time to sweep him up into his arms, placing his hands under the child's butt and standing up as Gus wound his arms around Justin's neck to give him a bear hug.

"Hi, Poppa!" the little boy exclaimed, his eyes lit with excitement as Justin's heart warmed like it always did at the endearment; he would never grow old of that term. "Is Daddy ready for me?" he asked as he pulled back to look at him.

Justin grinned as he winked at Kathy and Sean who had walked up to join them. "He sure is! And he needs a lot of help back there with the cooking, too. Your chef's outfit is out back on one of the chairs." He placed Gus gently back onto the ground as he told him, "You'd better go find him before he burns everything, okay? Think you'll be able to do that? We're all counting on you."

"Yeah!" Gus shouted confidently. "Daddy! Don't worry, I'm coming!" he yelled out as Justin winced at the volume. He immediately rushed inside the house, barreling toward the back doors to reach his father as Justin laughed over his enthusiasm.

"Well, I guess that answered _that_ question," he told Sean and Kathy with a smile as he extended his hand out to Sean. "Good to see you again, Sean," he greeted the older man fondly as Sean shook his hand. Brian's grandfather was wearing a pair of knee-length khaki shorts, a sage-green polo shirt with the words "Master Fisherman" written in small script on the left chest area, and a pair of brown leather sandals. Kathy, ever the epitome of understated elegance, was wearing a pair of ivory-colored linen pants, a sleeveless, navy blue cotton shirt, and a pair of navy dress sandals. Small, silver hoop earrings with a sailboat dangling from the ends and a matching silver sailboat necklace completed her outfit as she placed her hands on Justin's shoulders to stand on her tiptoes and give him a kiss on the cheek.

Justin braced his left hand lightly on her shoulder as she kissed him. "Hi, Kathy," he greeted her with a smile. The smile and warm words were genuine and affectionate; in the short time he had known Brian's maternal grandparents, he had become quite fond of them. He respected them for the way they had accepted him and his husband so readily and had always been truthful with him about their initial feelings of ambiguity over their lifestyle choices. At first, they had been more surprised than anything when he had initially appeared on their doorstep to introduce himself as Brian's partner, and to inform them that they had a great grandson they didn't even know about. But once the initial shock had worn off, they had not only accepted Brian and Gus into their fold, but they had embraced the idea of having a new part of their family.

Now he couldn't imagine Brian not having them in his life - and it was obvious that Gus felt the same way. Brian's son and Sean had quickly become best buds when it came to fishing, and he was grateful for their easy rapport. And Kathy seemed to be born into her role as a great grandmother to Gus, spoiling him rotten with home-baked cookies and showering him with plenty of hugs, kisses, and attention whenever they were together. The couple had even redecorated one of their spare bedrooms soon after Gus had first come to visit, hoping that one day they would be permitted to let him spend a night or two with them. Once they had the occasion to meet and get to know them better, Mel and Lindsay had quickly decided that the older couple was an excellent influence on their son and to the couple's delight the boy was now a frequent visitor to their home.

"We were all scared to death after we heard what happened the other night. Are you sure Brian's okay? You must have been out of your mnd with worry." She and Sean were thankful that Brian had called them right after it had happened, or they would have had a heart attack the next morning when word had gotten out on the news.

Justin nodded, grateful for their concern; it was certainly a change from Brian's adoptive family members. In fact, he noted that Claire had been noticeably absent these past few months, ever since she had decided to 'grace' them with her presence on their front doorstep. It wasn't that he hadn't expected her lack of compassion. But the fact that she hadn't even bothered to call, to find out if Brian or Fin had been seriously hurt, was further validation in his mind that she really hadn't loved her brother at all; she had merely tolerated him with barely-concealed disdain and had only acknowledged him when she needed him for something. Brian's REAL family was standing right now in front of him and supported him; that was all that mattered now. "He's fine, Kathy. Really."

"And Fin?" Sean asked as Justin held the door open for them to enter; he could hear Gus's excited, high pitched squeal at the back of the house, no doubt indicating that he had quickly located his father. "How is _he_?"

Justin's attention was caught by an unfamiliar-looking sedan slowly advancing up the driveway. "Looks like you'll be able to ask him that yourself," he told the older man as he cocked his head toward the outside of the house.

The trio turned around to watch as Fin and Tony's rental vehicle came to a stop near them. Tony was behind the wheel as he emerged from the vehicle first, Fin taking a little longer to join him due to the stiffness and soreness from his injury. Justin noted with a little surprise that at least he had finally divested himself of the sling, even though he didn't know that Tony had tried to persuade him to wait until he had his follow-up visit with the doctor. Fin, however, wouldn't have any of it, telling his partner that he did not want to appear weak in front of the public. Tony knew that his proud lover would never want there to be any hint of insinuation that he was using his injury as a sympathy ploy, either, so while he didn't approve of Fin's self-treatment he certainly understood it. Both men were casually dressed in jeans, leather loafers, and polo shirts - Tony's a light blue and Fin's a navy with thin, white pin stripes.

"Sean, Kathy," Fin called over to Lydia's parents as he walked up to them. "I'd shake your hand, but mine is sort of out of commission at the moment," he told them with a wry smile. "And I was never very good at being a southpaw, either."

Sean and Kathy nodded in understanding. "We're just glad you're okay, Fin," Kathy told him as she studied him intently. "That was very scary. We still can't quite believe it."

Fin nodded as Tony came up beside him and gave Justin a smile which Justin returned. He placed his hand subtly on his partner's right shoulder as Fin responded, "I know what you mean. I've been in politics a long time now and I've seen a lot of things, but never something like this. And from someone who I trusted to boot. Even his mother, who's one of my long-term personal assistants, had no idea he was capable of doing something like that."

Sean shook his head sadly. "It never ceases to amaze me just what lengths bigots will go to prove their point. I'm just glad he's in jail where he belongs." Kathy nodded in agreement as he asked, "And what's this business about the former police chief of Pittsburgh being involved with Turner's blackmail? This whole thing just gets weirder and weirder all the time."

"You have no idea," Tony murmured as Fin gave him a warning glance, shaking his head slightly to indicate he needed to let what they had discussed earlier remain off limits, at least until Danny could show up. Tony cleared his throat and nodded as he raised his voice. "Yeah, that WAS a surprise, but it shouldn't have been. In my line of work, I've seen more than my share of corrupt public officials, _including _people in authority. I just hope all the lunatics have crawled back into their slimy holes where they belong now. Sometimes these stunts just bring out _more_ of the fuckers, though, instead."

"That's because the press gives them way too much publicity," Sean told them with disgust. "If they'd just quit _glorifying_ everything these idiots did, they wouldn't encourage it to happen again."

"Maybe not," Fin told him wryly. He glanced over at Tony before turning to Justin. "Justin..."

Justin raised his brow curiously, noticing the sound of hesitation in his father-in-law's voice. "Yeah?"

Fin and Tony exchanged another glance before he shook his head with a smile of his own, seemingly making an internal decision. "Nothing," he told him. "I just wanted to let you know that Danny will be here soon - he's coming separately from us." The three of them had all flown in together on a chartered, smaller commuter jet from Harrisburg, but Danny had wound up renting a car, telling him and Tony that he had some background work to do around Pittsburgh for another case he was working on and that it would work out better if they had separate vehicles.

Justin nodded. "I was wondering if he was still coming. That's fine; the _master chef_ informed me a little earlier that he wouldn't have all the hamburgers and hot dogs done for at least another 30 minutes and he always cooks way too many anyway. He told me, and I quote, that _perfection takes time_."

Sean and Kathy laughed at that comment, but Justin noticed that his father-in-law and Tony did not. He knew both men well enough to know that something was going on between them, and he would wager that it had to do with whatever news the private eye was bringing them. Nodding at Brian's grandparents, he held his arm out to keep the front door open as he told the older couple, "I've got some iced tea and cold beer out on the back patio; why don't we join Brian and Gus there? I hope you all brought your swimsuits," he told them. "The pool's temperature right now is just about perfect."

"Something cold sounds really good about now," Kathy told him as the group walked inside. "But bathing suits? I haven't been seen in public in a bathing suit in twenty years, and I'm not about to start now," she told him as Justin laughed.

"Oh, I'm sure you're worried about nothing," he told her with a smile as Sean nodded over her head in agreement. To him, his wife was just as beautiful - and trim - as the day they had met so long ago.

Justin looked over at his father-in-law and Tony to advise them, "And don't worry if you didn't bring any, either; we have a ton of men's swim trunks in the pool house. Brian practically has a pair for every day of the month now." The two men nodded and smiled, but Justin noticed a certain uneasiness behind the gesture. Yes, something was definitely afoot, and he was intending to find out exactly what it was. As the four of them passed by him on the way to the back of the house, Justin managed to grab onto Tony's wrist before he could follow them.

"Tony, I need to talk to you for just a minute in private," he told his friend.

From his place nearby, Fin opened his mouth as if he were going to say something, but then thought better of it as he locked gazes with Tony for a few seconds before turning to follow Sean and Kathy toward the back of the house. "I'll be out back," he told Tony as his partner nodded before he walked away.

"What's up?" Tony asked Justin as they stood face to face in the hallway now, their backs up against the opposite walls.

"That's what I'D like to know," Justin told him quietly as he stared into his friend's face. "I get the distinct impression that you're not telling me something, Tony, and that's not like you. What exactly is up with Danny coming out here today? I can't imagine anything he couldn't have told you over the phone that you couldn't have just passed along to me or Brian. Why the big production number of having him come out here in person?" Tony looked over at him with uncharacteristic reticence, which merely made Justin even _more_ concerned. "Tony, come on; it's ME! What could be so worrisome that you can't just come out and tell me what it is?"

Tony sighed, wanting to avert his eyes and avoid looking at his friend, but knowing that he couldn't. He brushed his left hand nervously through his hair. "Justin...Trust me on this; it's better if Danny tells you in person - and provides proof so there's no question about its veracity."

"Well, that doesn't make me feel better," Justin grumbled. He frowned. "You said _tells YOU_, not _tells Brian_. Does this have something to do with ME?" From the uncomfortable look on Tony's face, he knew he had hit the mark. "My God, it does, doesn't it?" He didn't realize that he had tightened his grip on his friend's arm as he asked urgently, "What IS it? What could he have on ME that has to do with Fin's campaign?"

Tony licked his lips nervously. When Danny had unexpectedly called him late last night to give him the news, he had been stunned. He hadn't asked Danny to do more digging into Turner's accounts, feeling like the man's campaign had run its course now, but the P.I., still feeling like he owed him big time for the help he had provided him earlier, had done it on his own dime. He had researched the contribution records extensively - on the sly, of course with the help of his favorite hacker - and had found out some information that, while not earthshattering in its implications, still would be quite distressing to Justin. They both had decided after Danny hung up, however, that it would be best if the man came out with them today in person to provide irrefutable documentation to him. Plus, they both knew that Justin would demand proof of the information and would be dismayed by the news, and they did not think it was a good idea to broach it over the phone.

Now as he looked into the confused and worried face of his friend, he struggled with just what to say. One thing he DID know intuitively, though; Justin would need Brian's love - and support - to get through what he knew would be a troubling time for him. "Justin," he told his friend gently. "I...I think it'd be better to wait until Danny gets here. He said he'll be here soon; I talked to him a little while ago on his cell. Please...Let's just wait until he arrives, okay? You'll have to trust me on this one, Justin."

Justin bit his lip in apprehension, unable to figure out why HE would figure into something to do with his father-in-law's campaign. He had led a fairly uncontroversial life since his high school days. Yes, he was active in gay rights causes, passionate about it, in fact. He still participated regularly in benefits for Pittsburgh's Gay and Lesbian Center whenever he had the time, even donating artworks whenever they needed some items for auction events, and he attended regular meetings held by the "Rainbow Rights" group that he had helped to establish in the Pittsburgh area, together with his mother and Debbie who were co-chairwomen of the group. So it should be no surprise to anyone what his sexual persuasion was; he had made no secret about that ever since he was a teenager and he had no intention of doing that now. Also, thanks in large part to Turner's smear campaign and Stewart's violent assault the other day, Brian's and his marriage was a well-known fact now. So what would make Tony's P.I. friend feel a need to come out and talk to HIM? That thought plagued him as well as worried him. When it was all said and done, though, he DID trust Tony, so he would have to abide by his friend's wishes for now. He sighed softly in resignation as he let go of Tony's arm. "Okay, Tony. If that's what you want. But you know I'm dying of curiosity now."

Tony smiled softly and nodded, relieved that Justin wouldn't press him anymore for the time being. "Thanks." He paused for a moment. "As for me, I'M dying of _thirst_. What was that you said about beer? Knowing Brian I'm sure you have some of the good stuff."

Justin grinned, the tension broken as he nodded. "You got THAT right, Counselor; but it remains to be seen if you think it's the 'good stuff.' I'll leave that up to _you_ to decide," was the enigmatic reply. "Right this way."

* * *

_Fifteen Minutes Later_

Brian slid the last of the hamburger patties onto Justin's honeymoon platter, rolling his eyes as Justin grinned back at him. He knew exactly what Brian was thinking without saying it: _Sentimental twat_. "So where's Jen?" he asked his husband.

"Mom told me she might be running a little late; something about a house closing getting pushed back to later than she thought," Justin replied as he took the platter from Brian. "Close that Cadillac of grills down now, Mr. Kinney, before the hungry masses revolt on us. They're all starving over there."

Brian shook his head in amusement as he looked over at their group of visitors. Despite having three tables that their guests could sit at, all four of the adults had chosen to sit together at the same table under a massive, opened shade umbrella. Sean and Kathy were sipping iced tea, while his father and Tony were taking advantage of his latest 'Beer of the Month Club' selection to sample an exotic type of beer called "Purple Haze," a wheat beer that contained raspberries in it. Justin had taken a sip to sample it when Brian had first received his latest selection in the mail yesterday, deciding it was too sweet for his taste. Brian, on the other hand, had shocked him by announcing that he rather _liked_ the odd combination of malt and tartness. At least it had given Justin leverage to request that they have cheesecake today for dessert, since the fruity beer lent itself well to that type of dessert.

"So what do you think?" Justin asked curiously as he came over to join the others at the table; he watched Fin take another tentative sip from his bottle. "Thumbs up or thumbs down?"

Fin grinned as he looked over at Tony scrunching up his face in reaction to his sampling. "I like it; it takes a little while to get used to it, but the combination works somehow. I don't think my partner feels the same way, though." He laughed as Tony licked his lips in an attempt to get rid of the lingering aftertaste and grimaced at him.

Justin couldn't help chuckling at his friend as he said, "Tony?"

Tony put the bottle down and gave a look similar to a young child who had just tasted broccoli for the first time or who had sucked on a sour lemon. "Let's just say the jury's still out on this one."

Brian walked over and pulled up one of the other adjacent table's chairs to straddle it backward. "I don't think the jury's still in deliberation at all," he stated with a grin. "I think the verdict's already rendered. And all I can say is, some of us have sophisticated tastes and some of us don't...Right, Senator?"

Justin and Tony both snorted as Fin laughed, his eyes twinkling at his son. "Right...My thoughts exactly." He brought the bottle up to his lips again and took another healthy swig before putting it down, watching in amusement as his partner shook his head in distaste. "Don't worry, Counselor; I'll be glad to relieve you of any further responsibility." He reached over to snag Tony's bottle and place it down next to his. Looking over at Justin, who was making swirling designs using the condensation on the side of his iced tea glass, he stated, "I think the esteemed attorney needs a good, old-fashioned Bud."

Justin grinned as he stood up. "Coming right up," he told Tony. Brian reached to briefly take Justin's hand and squeeze it affectionately as he passed by his chair; Justin returned the gesture with a loving smile of his own before walking over to the compact fridge. "Looks like we're out - I'll go get one from the kitchen." As he walked over to the back doors, he heard Brian call his name.

"Justin?"

"Yeah?" Justin turned to look at his husband with a brow arched in question.

"Can you check on Sonny Boy? He was supposed to go up and bring down his remote control 'Vette ten minutes ago and he's not back yet. I wonder what mischief he's gotten into this time."

Justin grinned, knowing how accurate that statement was. Their house had been meticulously 'Gus-proofed' quite some time ago, practically from the first time they had moved in and knew that Gus would be spending time with them. But despite their precautions, Brian's son still managed to find ways to circumvent their efforts. The last time Gus had been left alone for just a few minutes, he had come out of their master bedroom with shaving cream all over his face, telling Brian that he was old enough to shave now, just like his daddy and Poppa were. "Good idea," he told Brian now. "I'll go track him down; don't worry."

Brian nodded in response, not concerned since he knew Justin, aka 'the bloodhound' would track his rambunctious, little boy down quickly. His partner was normally more adept than he was at figuring out where Gus had run off to, although his son had been known on occasion to take inordinate delight in playing an impromptu round of 'hide and go seek' whether he and Justin knew about it or not. Normally, though, the boy's giggles would rat him out long before they actually saw him; he got too much of a kick out of hiding from them to stay quiet for more than a couple of minutes or so before he was discovered.

Tony rose from his chair. "I'll come with you to get the beer," he volunteered as Justin nodded before the two men left to run their errands.

* * *

Pointing out where the bottles of Bud were in the bottom of the fridge, Justin left Tony in the kitchen as he walked down the hallway and ascended the stairs. "Gus? Where are you?" he called out as he went, not surprised when he didn't hear anything. Whenever Gus was absorbed in something - or, of course, whenever he was playing his game of 'come and find me' - he zoned out everything else and didn't even realize his name was being called. "Gus, it's Justin. Are you in your room?" he asked as he reached the second-floor landing and turned to the right to walk down the hallway; Gus's room was located two doors down from their master bedroom, separated by a large, walk-in linen closet used to store towels, sheets, and toiletry items. It was close enough if he needed them at night, but far enough away that their lovemaking would not disturb him after he had gone to bed.

As he arrived at the open doorway to Gus's room, however, he knew immediately that his stepson was nowhere in sight; the room was eerily silent except for the train clock ticking away softly above Gus's locomotive-shaped bed. A quick search of the boy's adjoining bathroom and the walk-in closet confirmed he was nowhere around. So where could he _be_? Was this going to be yet another game of Hide and Go Seek?

"Gus!" he called out as he exited the room and stood there in hesitation. If the boy didn't answer him soon, he would be forced to go find him and their lunch was quickly getting cold. "Your hamburger's ready, Gus," he told him in an attempt to lure him out of hiding. Like him, Gus was best tempted by the idea of food - and especially dessert. "I've got cheesecake," he said seductively. "But you won't get any until you eat your other food first." The house, however, remained rebelliously silent as he sighed in exasperation. "Gus," he said a little more loudly this time. "Enough, Buddy. Get your car and let's go back outside. Everyone's waiting for us." He wasn't sure if that was true exactly; he didn't know if they were waiting for them to come back to eat or not, but he was trying everything in his arsenal anyway, whatever would get the little boy to emerge from his hiding place. "Gus, come on," he cajoled finally when he got no response. "We can play games AFTER lunch. Good chefs don't leave after they're done cooking; they wait to see how everyone likes the food."

He sighed again heavily as he once more received nothing but stony silence in return. Shaking his head, he began his search of the large structure room-by-room, electing to start upstairs in his attic studio first where his stepson was known to visit frequently.

* * *

_Same Time Downstairs_

"Justin?" Jennifer poked her head inside the unlocked front door, calling out to her son but receiving no response; she could hear footsteps rapidly rushing down the steps, however, as she opened the door wider and walked inside. "Brian?" she called out, still not getting a response even though it was obvious that someone was in the house.

Walking down the hallway and arriving at the steps, she was almost run over by her grandson arriving from the upper floor. "Whoa, there, Gus!" she called out fondly to the little boy as he jumped down from the last step with a beaming smile and a giggle. She caught him and pulled him into her embrace, wrapping her arms around his small body as she smiled at his boisterousness. "What are you up to, Young Man?" she asked him as he wriggled in her grasp. The boy was always in perpetual motion, full of life and energy. She didn't know if that made her feel young or old...

"Let me go, Grandma!" Gus chided her as he continued to fidget. "I want to draw!" he told her as he grasped a sketchpad in one hand and a box of colored pencils in the other.

Jennifer recognized the sketchpad as the brand that Justin uses, assuming the little boy had purloined one from somewhere upstairs, probably in her son's studio. She had always found it heartwarming how Gus had developed a love for drawing, knowing it was mainly due to the time Justin spent with him encouraging it. She could recall Justin developing a love for drawing around the same age with crayons, never realizing at the time how talented or prosperous he would be one day. It was ironic, though, that Brian's biological child would take after her son, but she found it very endearing just the same. It was a testament to how much Justin loved this child - and how much the child loved _him_. "Where did you get that, Honey?" she asked the precocious boy as she pulled back to take a better look at him.

Gus's face scrunched up thoughtfully as he told her, "I found it. In that room."

"What room, Gus?" she asked him as she knelt down to be more on the same height level. "Poppa's studio?"

Gus shook his head adamantly as he insisted, "No, Grandma. I found it in the _empty_ room."

"Empty room? Which empty room?" The only one that she knew about was the room adjacent to Gus's at the end of the hall. It was a former parlor room that Justin was planning on remodeling. "You mean the one next to your room?" she queried.

Gus nodded. "Yeah. The ugly room."

Jennifer smiled. Yes, she supposed that was a pretty adequate description of it. In its bare state, austere, dark-wood paneled walls, and the dusty atmosphere, it WAS pretty ugly. Keeping one hand around Gus's waist to try and keep him in place, she nodded with a smile. "Well, can I see the book? If your poppa has some work in there, he might want you to use a different sketchbook."

Gus hesitated for a moment until Jennifer promised him hastily that she would find him another book before he finally handed it to her. Flipping the top over, she began to look inside, noticing her suspicions had been correct; Justin HAD been using this one to make drawings. Only they didn't appear to be sketches for his art; they appeared to almost be a type of blueprint for a room. And not just a room; it was obvious by the carefully-designed drawings that it was meant to be a nursery. Her eyebrows lifted in curiosity; why was her son drawing sketches of a nursery? Did he have some type of commission to draw or paint a nursery? Or was there some _other _reason for them?

Just then, she heard more footsteps up on the second-floor landing and lifted her gaze to observe Justin breathlessly trotting down the staircase. Hastily flipping the sketchpad closed, she placed it down on the floor nearby just as he reached the landing. "Hi, Honey," she said with a smile. "Were you looking for someone, by chance?"

Justin narrowed his eyes to stare down at his stepson. "As a matter of fact, I was," he said in mock irritation. "Did you not hear me calling you, Buddy?" he asked the boy. Gus merely smiled up at him and giggled, making Justin roll his eyes and smirk. "Just as I thought so. You're as bad as your Daddy, you know that?" _Both incorrigible and experts at knowing exactly how to get their way..._

Jennifer rose to a standing position as Justin grasped her shoulders and gave her a kiss on the cheek. "I'm glad you could make it," he told her with a smile. "And you saved me from having to play an extended version of _Hide and Go Seek._" He peered down at Gus, who for some reason didn't even have his car WITH him, even though that was what he was supposed to have gone upstairs to get. "Where's your car, Gus?" he asked, puzzled. "I thought you were going to go get it."

Jennifer interrupted before Gus had a chance to talk. "He told me he wanted to draw instead and was looking for a sketchpad," she told her son, deciding that was a half-truth anyway. The little boy still had his pencils clutched in his hand as she asked, "Do you have a spare one he could use?"

Justin nodded with a smile, always pleased that his stepson was interested in art and more than glad to encourage it. "I sure do," he said to Gus. "There's a new one on top of the coffee table. I just put it out yesterday. You can use that one, okay?" Art was still like a sickness to Justin, a willing, lifelong addiction; he had to have some type of media to draw on in practically every room just in case an inspiration hit him. Brian always kidded him that they needed to hang a waterproof one up in the shower stall, but Justin had managed to convince him that he much preferred to concentrate on some 'other' type of entertainment while they were in there.

As Gus began to break away from his grandmother's grasp, though, Justin hastily added, "But let's wait until after lunch, Buddy." He managed to grab the child by the arm just before he was about to rush by. The little boy squealed in protest but he wasn't too upset; Justin knew this was yet another game between them as he pulled Gus back against his body and tickled him affectionately for a few seconds. As Gus giggled in reaction, Justin turned him around toward the back of the hall and gave him a small slap on the butt. "Now march, Young Man! Go eat and then I promise you can draw afterward; I'll even join you, okay? You don't want to miss the cheesecake I made - it's got strawberries," he told him as Gus screamed out a "Yay!" and, promptly dropping the box of pencils down on the hardwood floor, he took off at breakneck speed toward the back of the house. A few seconds later, Justin could hear his husband saying, "THERE you are; come over here and eat, Sonny Boy," before he turned his attention back to his mother and sighed.

"I think that kid will wear me out yet," he told her with a wry grin.

"Funny you should say that, Honey," Jennifer told her son as she bent down to pick up the other sketchpad. "Because it looks like you might be thinking of adding to your brood and getting even MORE worn out. Gus said he found this upstairs in the empty room next to his. You want to tell me what this is all about, Justin?"

Justin's eyes widened as he realized which sketchbook it was; with everything that had happened recently he had completely forgotten that he had left it where it had been dropped several days ago. "Uh..." he began dumbly, feeling suddenly awkward as he averted his gaze downward to look at the floor. "I'm not sure what you mean, Mom. They're just drawings I made, that's all."

"No," she responded gently as she flipped open the book and came to one of the nursery drawings. "These aren't just _drawings_, Sweetheart. They're drawings of a _nursery_. Is there something you want to tell me?"

"Lunch is getting cold, Mom..."

"Justin..."

Her son finally sighed in resignation as he lifted his gaze to meet his mother's. He knew he would have to tell her something and she obviously wasn't going to be deterred; it really wasn't that big of a deal anyway. He reached over to gently take it from her hands and close it, not wanting Brian to somehow find out unexpectedly, as he told her, "Let's go into the study where we can talk privately."

Jennifer nodded as she followed her son down the hallway toward the front of the house where Brian's study, one of his favorite rooms, was located. As he closed the door behind them several seconds later, he turned to look at his mother who had taken a place on the couch nearby to inform her, "There really isn't much to tell, Mom." As his mother arched an eyebrow at him, he admitted, "Yes. They're drawings I did of a nursery; an _imaginary_ nursery. One that just exists in my head. That's all there is to it."

"One that doesn't just exist in your mind, Justin," his mother corrected him. "I think it's one that exists in your dreams, too. Have you talked to Brian about this?" She really didn't need an answer to either question, though, as she looked into her child's face; she knew her son well enough to know that he had, indeed, been thinking seriously about the idea and that he hadn't told Brian about it yet.

"Mom..." Justin pushed back from his place against the door and walked over to sit down next to her as he placed the sketchbook on the coffee table in front of them. He let out a deep breath as she placed her right hand on his shoulder and he confessed, "I don't know when it started exactly. I mean, when this feeling started. It could have been as far back as when Gus was born, but it probably became stronger after Jenny Rebecca was born and Michael and Ben used to let me and Daphne babysit for them. Or when I would go visit Mel or Lindsay and they would let me pick her up and hold her and feed her. She was such a beautiful baby, Mom," Justin exclaimed, his face practically glowing in remembrance.

Jennifer noted that it was similar to how he looked whenever his artwork was given prominence at a gallery show and he became excited about it, only somehow this was different in a way. His voice was softer, tenderer; more emotional.

She watched then as his face took on a faraway type of look as he stared straight ahead and recalled the feelings that were generated when he had held the little girl. "I don't know if I can even explain it to myself. When I held her, it was like I felt so special. Like there was this tiny little person who needed me and depended upon me for everything. Her smell, her big, deep, brown eyes when she looked up at me, her softness; it was so amazing and felt both powerful as well as just a little intimidating in a way." He paused, trying hard to adequately put his feelings into words. "And when I fed her, she would put her tiny little fingers around my thumb with such surprising strength and make these little, soft, cooing noises that just made my insides melt." He finally looked over at his mother sheepishly, feeling decidedly embarrassed for sounding so soppy. "And Gus...you know I love him like he was my own son. I've been a part of his life literally since the day he was born." He sighed. "I don't know what's come over me."

Jennifer squeezed his shoulder sympathetically. "I know...It doesn't really surprise me in the least, Honey. Even when you were young, you were always bringing home stray animals or even baby birds that you swore had fallen out of their nests, even though I suspected at the time that you had probably climbed up the tree and plucked them out of their nests yourself." She moved her hand to the back of her son's neck to lightly caress the soft hair there, just like she used to do when he was young and Justin needed reassurance and comforting. "You've always had this nurturing side to you, Justin. Even though I was hard pressed to find it once your teenage hormones kicked in and you and Molly started bickering at each other all the time," she teased him with a slight smile as he grinned back at her.

"The Mollusk became a real brat right around the time she hit pre-puberty," he maintained as she laughed softly. "It was out of my control then."

"Okay, I'll accept that," she said with a grin of her own. She sobered as she told him, "I think it's wonderful that you want to have a child of your own, Justin. But you never answered my question, not that I really need you to. You haven't talked to Brian about this at all yet, have you? That's why you wanted to talk to me in private."

Justin nodded in confirmation. "I've been planning on it - really," he insisted. "But it seems like every time I might have an opportunity, something else more important comes up. And with him running Fin's campaign now, it just isn't a good time to throw this idea out to him. I don't want him stressing out over something else that isn't urgent anyway."

Jennifer dropped her hand into her lap as she replied, "It might not be urgent, but it IS important to you. Brian would want to know, Justin. And I know the two of you have vowed not to keep secrets from each other. He might not like you keeping this from him. Are you afraid to tell him how you feel?"

Justin pondered that question momentarily. WAS he afraid of what Brian's response might be? He let out a deep breath before he finally nodded. "Maybe. I mean, I don't know, Mom! We should have talked about this before we got married. But when I found out about Fin, everything else kind of took a back seat. The most important thing to me back then was finding Brian's real father and hopefully encouraging them to get to know each other and become at least friends. I pushed all these other feelings aside. And then practically as soon as we got back from the honeymoon, Fin's campaign geared up and Brian was at the helm. There really hasn't been _time_ to talk about it."

Jennifer nodded as she stared into the troubled, blue eyes. "But you haven't stopped thinking about it, though, have you? You still want a child. A baby. You would be a terrific father, Honey. Maybe you're worried over nothing. Something tells me that Brian would be happy with whatever makes YOU happy. He's changed a lot since you first met. He just might surprise you."

Justin sighed as he pursed his lips together and stood up, eyeing the sketchbook that was on the coffee table. Part of him wanted to do just that - to trust in their love and that Brian would agree to whatever he wanted as long as it made him happy. And he believed that - to a certain extent. But the other part knew this was something different - it would change both their lives in so many ways. He turned to look at his mother to say, "Mom, this isn't about me wanting a new car, or new clothes, or even a new house, although you know I love it here. It's not about deciding what we're having for dinner, or letting 'the resident Artiste' redecorate to his heart's content. This is about bringing a helpless child into our lives, one that would need care 24/7. One that would tie us down for the next eighteen years; hell, even longer because you never break ties with your family. Look at Fin and Brian." He blew out another anxious breath, desperately wanting a smoke to calm his nerves, even though he had given up smoking - finally - a few years ago. He finally settled for walking over to the wet bar on the opposite side of the room and pouring himself a shot of Beam, gulping it down in one go before placing the glass back on the oval serving tray. "I know I need to discuss this with him," he told his mother. "But it's not an emergency and it can wait. It will HAVE to wait until after all this with Fin is settled, that's all there is to it. Please don't say anything to him right now. He has enough responsibilities at the moment without me adding to his concerns. Please, Mom...Promise me."

Jennifer gazed over at her son in sympathy in response to his plaintive, pleading tone. She felt sorry for her son. She could hear the yearning in his voice when he had talked about wanting a child; she could tell how badly he wanted one. But she also knew he was an adult and needed to make his own decisions regarding his future, so she would abide by his wishes, even though she never thought it was a good idea to keep secrets from each other. "Okay, Honey," she agreed as Justin smiled at her gratefully. "But just don't wait too long, okay? These sorts of things have a way of blowing up needlessly, and I really think Brian just might surprise you. No one loves anyone more deeply than he does you."

"I'll tell him, Mom," he promised. "It will just have to take a lower priority for a while, that's all. Now we'd better get back outside before he comes looking for me."

His mother was about to agree when another voice filtered in from the hallway.

"Justin?"

As if right on cue, Justin heard Brian calling his name and his pulse sped up in reaction. Hurrying over to snatch the sketchbook from the coffee table, he looked around frantically for somewhere to put it, finally deciding to stuff it inside a large tome that was lying flat on one of their bookshelves. It was a book on architecture in ancient Greece; he figured it would be one book that Brian wouldn't be taking much of an interest in if at all in the near future. He just had enough time to slide it inside and shut the front cover to put it back on the shelf before the study door was opened and Brian poked his head inside, seeing him standing nonchalantly with his back against the bookshelf. His heart skipped at beat just like it always did as Brian smiled at him.

"_Here's_ where you've been hiding yourself," he commented as he walked into the room, wondering why the two of them had the door closed, but not choosing to dwell on it. "Hey, Jennifer, I didn't know you were here," he said as he looked over at his mother-in-law.

"Hi, Brian," she replied as she rose from her place on the couch and walked over to greet him with a kiss on his cheek. "Thanks for the lunch invitation; I'm sorry I'm running late. I hope you didn't wait on me."

Brian shook his head. "Are you kidding me? With Gus around? That kid doesn't know the meaning of patience; at least not when it comes to food." He looked over at Justin. "Are you sure he's not related to YOU instead?"

"He should BE so lucky," Justin teased back as Brian walked over to him, reached for his hand and clasped it as he pulled him gently to his side.

He placed his arm around Justin's waist as he answered softly, "Yeah, he WOULD be lucky. He IS lucky." As Justin blushed at the unexpected compliment, Brian gave him a kiss on the cheek. "Now let's get a move on before said child finishes up every hamburger and piece of cheesecake we have left. I think he just finished off his second one and was working his way toward dessert when I left to go find you. I think we may down to a carrot stick or two if you hurry."

Justin laughed as he let Brian gently pull him toward the door, their hands still twined together as they swung back and forth. He cast a backward glance of gratitude back at his mother who nodded at him with a smile before they turned to head toward the back patio. Jennifer was always one of those people who believed that things happened for a reason and that they weren't just random, cosmic events. She only hoped that this time she was right.

* * *

_Thirty Minutes Later_

"Well, I WOULD ask how you liked your cheesecake, Sonny Boy, but I don't think that's necessary," Brian told his son with a smirk, observing what little remained of a huge piece of dessert Gus had ingested in record time. His child absolutely loved cheesecake, and when you added glazed strawberries to the top, it was irresistible to him. He also knew that Justin had insisted on serving it for dessert, knowing how much Gus loved it. And he adored Justin all the more for the way he constantly demonstrated his love for his son in so many subtle ways.

Gus nodded eagerly. "Can I have another piece, Poppa?" he asked Justin hopefully, batting his big, brown eyes at his stepfather.

Brian laughed as he looked over at Tony. "You will notice for the record, Counselor, that he asked JUSTIN that question instead of me. He knows that I would tell him no, that's he had enough. Whereas he knows that _Mr. Softy _over there will likely tell him yes. My son is one smart little fuc..."

"Brian," Justin admonished him before he could finish, widening his eyes in warning about the profanity.

Brian rolled his eyes. "I was just saying that Gus is one smart little, _fun-loving_ boy."

Justin smirked. "Yeah...sure you were. He is," he agreed as Gus beamed over at him, taking that as a positive sign that he was about to get his way. He stared over at Justin expectantly before he chuckled in concession. "Okay, Gus, one more _skinny _piece." Before his stepson could protest, Justin advised him, "Don't worry; I have another whole cheesecake for your great grandma and great grandpa to take home with you to eat later."

"Yay!" Gus declared in delight as Justin cut a small piece of dessert and slid it onto his plate.

"That was very nice of you, Dear," Kathy told him with a smile. "You didn't have to do that, but I have a confession to make. Gus isn't the ONLY one who likes your cheesecake. Sean and I think it's the best cheesecake we've ever had. I don't think it's too good for my figure, though."

Justin and Sean exchanged a look as he told her, "I'm sure you have nothing to worry about, Kathy."

Sean nodded in agreement as he leaned over to kiss her cheek. "He's right, Honey; you're still a babe to me," he said as she laughed at his choice of pet name.

Tony grinned at them as he felt his cellphone vibrating. He retrieved his phone from his jeans pocket to read the text message he had just received: _Arriving at the house now; will need buzzed in at the gate. Danny_.

Tony blew out a tense breath, dreading what had to be done but knowing it was unavoidable. He stood up. "If you'll excuse me for a minute," he told them as he stole a glance over at Fin, telling him silently that the P.I. had arrived. "I'll be right back." Fin reached out to grab his wrist as Tony stared down at him and nodded, knowing his lover was wishing him good luck. Both knew they weren't looking forward to the information that Danny was bringing, but it would be nothing compared to what Justin was about to endure.

Tony walked down the hallway soon afterward and arrived at the front of the house, pressing the security button that would open the remote-controlled gate at the beginning of the driveway. A few minutes later, he watched through the leaded crystal of the ornate front door as a nondescript, dark sedan slowed down and then stopped behind their own vehicle before Danny got out and walked up the front entrance.

"Hey, Danny," Tony acknowledged the other man with a nod as he opened the front door to greet his friend and the two shook hands; in the P.I.'s hand was a large, brown envelope about a half-inch thick containing several documents. About the same age as Tony, Danny still had the appearance of being about ten years older. His penchant toward having far too many drinks in the evening, along with staying up at all hours of the night working on cases, had taken their toll. His face was drawn and wrinkled, although tan from spending hours out in the sun doing surveillance, and his gray hair belied his actual age of 53. The slight paunch over his jeans, also, spoke volumes about his unhealthy tendency to gorge himself on way too many burgers and fries when he was out on a case, but the man was still tops at what he did professionally, even though he _did _like to skirt the law at times. That was how he obtained some of his most critical and damning information, too, and today was no exception.

"Hey, Tony," the P.I. greeted him. "I have the information you requested for your friend. Is he here?"

Tony nodded as he held the door open wider for Danny to enter. "Yeah - they're all out back on the patio. Come on out and have a beer and a hamburger; we've got plenty left."

Danny smiled gratefully, finding himself sweating profusely in the hot, early afternoon sun. "Sounds good," he said. "Maybe I'd better eat BEFORE I show this to him. I'm not sure how hospitable he'll feel after he's done looking at it."

"No," Tony replied, knowing Danny was kidding but still needing to get his point across. "He needs to know about this _now_."

Danny nodded. "I know," he said solemnly. "The man sounds like a real prick from what I read. If you ask me, he's better off without him."

Tony had heard enough before from Justin to concur with that assessment. That still wouldn't take the pain away, though. "I couldn't agree more," he told the P.I. as they walked through the house and shortly arrived at the back doors. As he led Danny outside to the patio, his eyes locked on Fin's, both silently fearing what they needed to do but knowing it still had to be done.

"Hey, Danny," Fin greeted him with a polite nod. He and the private investigator had met several times before and while he wasn't a good friend of the guy and he knew Danny wasn't perfect, he still agreed with Tony that the man knew his stuff backward and forward. This time, though, he almost wished he didn't. "I'd like you to meet some family," he said as the P.I. walked up and shook his hand, deliberately including Sean and Kathy in his description. By now he felt like they were all connected, and in a way they were. "This is Sean and Kathy Blackwell. They're my son Brian's maternal grandparents. And that's Gus, my grandson," he said proudly with a smile as he indicated the little boy now playing out on the nearby tennis court's surface with his remote control car. His desire to draw had temporarily been usurped by his father giving him permission to use the green-colored clay court for his remote control race track.

"This is Brian, my son," Fin told the man, again unable to keep the pride out of his voice as the man took turns shaking Sean, Kathy, and Brian's hands in order of introduction.

"This is Jennifer Taylor, Brian's mother-in-law."

_Hmm_...Danny digested that information silently. He hadn't been aware when he had spoken to Tony earlier that Justin's mother would be here. That would make his task somewhat more troubling, no doubt, but he had promised to follow through on Tony's wishes in person and he had no intention of backing out now.

Jennifer reached over from her place at the table to shake the slightly burly man's hand, noting it was somewhat sweaty from the heat as he clasped her hand briefly and then let it go.

Fin took a deep breath before he finally stated, "And this is Justin Taylor-Kinney, Brian's husband and my son-in-law."

He didn't know if Fin had deliberately kept Justin's introduction for last, but at the sound of the young man's name, he looked over at him to study him carefully for a moment. After reading the material he had in his possession, he would have recognized the face anywhere because the resemblance was striking. "Nice meeting you," he told Justin as they, too, shook hands.

Justin nodded politely, but inside his stomach was churning after his previous conversation with Tony. He hadn't told Brian about it; he figured it wouldn't change anything, and besides, he really didn't know WHAT was going on. All he had was a distinct impression that somehow it had to do with him. They would apparently all find out soon enough, anyway.

"Want a beer, Danny?" Tony asked his friend as Danny nodded with an appreciative smile. He walked over to retrieve one from the compact refrigerator and returned to hand it over to him before he, too, took a seat at the table next to Fin. He instinctively reached over to clasp Fin's hand, who gave it a squeeze as the P.I. took a gusty swig of his drink.

"Ahh," he said in appreciation. "Nice...I needed that. Thanks."

Tony nodded at him in acknowledgment, silently urging Danny to proceed and get it over with. The man seemed to get the idea as he took one more drink from his bottle before he set it down and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "Okay...I'll show you why I'm here now," he said curtly, electing to forgo his lunch temporarily.

Without any further preamble, Danny opened the envelope's flap and reached in to retrieve a white folder from inside the envelope. He turned slightly so he could stare directly over at Justin, Tony having told him that he deserved to know about it first. "I think this has to do mostly with you," he said, just a slight tone of regret in his voice. "I'm sorry."

Brian frowned as he turned to look over at Justin, who swallowed hard in response to the look on the older man's face. "Him? What could Justin possibly have to do with something you've uncovered? He doesn't have anything to hide."

"Not him directly," he clarified with a negative shake of his head. "Take a look." He slid the folder across the table to Justin, noticing the young man's hands appearing to shake slightly as he reached for the folder and opened it up.

He pulled out a stapled list marked "_Turner Contributors_" at the top and began to skim it. He quickly discarded the names on the first page as he felt everyone's eyes boring down on him as he flipped the page over to begin reading the information contained on the next sheet. His attention then was immediately drawn to a name and dollar amount highlighted in bright yellow near the bottom of the page. His eyes darkened in anger and hurt as he instantly recognized the company name, even though his heart was wanting desperately to deny it. "Shit," he growled, his lips pursed tightly together as he began to read the brief synopsis written directly below the name and amount. "I don't fucking believe this."

Brian frowned in concern as he rose from his place across from his husband. "Justin? What the fuck _is_ it? What's in there?" He couldn't imagine what would make Justin so distressed. His words were quiet and calm, but the anger and hurt were written all over his beautiful face which was currently drawn and red. "Justin - talk to me."

As Brian walked over to place his hands on Justin's shoulders from behind, he finally got a look at what he was studying; his husband didn't have to say a word as he handed the list up to him. There, highlighted to make it easier to find, was the name of one of Turner's biggest supporters - a business by the name of _Taylor Electronics_.

* * *

_A/N: Thanks for boriqua522 for looking this over for me.:)_


	28. Dead to Me

_Justin's dream of a reconciliation with his father turns into a nightmare._

Brian's face darkened with rage as he read the name prominently displayed in yellow. "Son of a bitch!" he growled as he shook his head. He couldn't really say he was surprised to see Craig Taylor's company name listed on the sheet, though; it all actually made perfect sense to him.

Jennifer frowned. "What's going on?" Cassandrashe asked with some alarm; she watched Justin swallow noticeably as she readily recognized the distress on his face. It reminded her of the same sort of expression Justin had worn right after the bashing, a mixture of horror and disbelief. "What is it?"

Brian peered over at her to explain curtly, "It seems your prick of an ex-husband decided to bestow a small gift to the Turner campaign in the amount of $30,000."

Jennifer's mouth immediately fell open as her eyes grew large in shock. "What? You're joking."

Brian arched an eyebrow. "Do I look like I'm joking, Jennifer? Does your SON look like I'm joking?"

"I don't believe it," Jennifer murmured as she looked over at Justin, but to her dismay she knew it had to be true by the expression on her son's face. How could Craig do that to him? Because that was clearly what he was doing. He couldn't care less about Turner. No, it was an overt, 'fuck you' statement not only to Justin but to Brian and his father as well. "Where did he even get the damn money?" she pondered. Craig was always whining to her about not having any money left over after paying expenses for Molly's education and medical insurance premiums to take 'proper' care of his newborn daughter, Cassandra, or Cassie for short, who had been born to him and his new wife, Laurie, about six months ago. If he was so destitute, then, how did he manage to come up with all this money toward Turner's campaign? Had he been lying to her all along about just what sort of condition his company was in or exactly how much money he had? If he was, it wouldn't surprise her in the least; she had long ago realized that she couldn't believe anything Craig told her anymore.

"Good question," Brian growled as he peered over at Danny. "Did you manage to dig up anything about where all this fucking money came from?"

"Last page," Danny told him with a nod as Brian flipped open the stapled packet to peer at the last sheet, which showed a detailed listing of bank account information. "I'm not sure how he earned the money, but I do know where it went afterward."

Accustomed to quickly scanning large volumes of information at Kinnetik to get to the crux of a matter, it didn't take Brian long to determine what was going on. "That lying piece of shit!" he snapped as Justin twisted his head to look into his eyes. Brian let out an angry breath before he explained, "It seems your Daddy Dearest has something in common with Turner and his nitwits; he has a convenient little offshore account set up to hide some of his profits."

Brian shook his head as Justin looked up at him in shock over that revelation. "I don't understand," Justin whispered, his voice shrouded in pain. All he had heard about from his mother was how his father's business was on the verge of collapsing due to the proliferation of online companies that could offer the same electronics goods for a lower price and without charging sales tax. If that was the case, then, how could he afford to contribute such an outrageous amount of money toward Turner's campaign, and where exactly did all the money originate from? Apparently when it came to doing something to hurt him, though, he could magically _find_ the funds somehow. He turned his head back around and cast his eyes downward, not wanting everyone to know how much this information affected him.

Brian grasped the paper in his right hand as the back of his other hand reached down to lightly caress Justin's cheek supportively from behind; shit, he hated to tell Justin the rest of it, but he couldn't hide it from him, either. "Well, he not only has the wherewithal to hide his excess funds overseas, but from the look of things, he's making a tidy little profit to boot," he informed him softly as the others at the table peered over at him expectantly. He dropped his hand to Justin's shoulder as he informed him, "According to this statement, he's got over a quarter million dollars in that account."

Justin jerked his head upward to look into the startled eyes of his mother, which no doubt mirrored his own at the moment. "What the hell?" He pushed back from the chair as Brian dodged out of the way just before he twirled around to face him. "Are you shitting me?" This couldn't be true. He _refused _to believe it was true, even now.

"I'm sorry, Sunshine," Brian murmured sympathetically, not worrying about how that pet name might sound to someone like Danny, who was watching all the interaction intently. The detective knew it wasn't his place to decipher the other man's motives, but simply to provide the facts. "I don't know where he's gotten all that money, but it's right here in black and white." He shook his head in disgust, hating Craig Taylor even more at that moment for causing the man he loved so much pain again. Would the asshole ever stop hurting his only son? But of course, Craig Taylor didn't give a shit. Well, he didn't either, then. His lips drew into a tight line as he began to crumple up the sheet into a ball to throw it away, only to have Justin reach over and grasp his wrist to stop him.

"No, Brian!" he said firmly, his jaw set with determination. "Let me have it."

"Justin..." He glanced over at his mother-in-law, who shook her head as if to say _don't question what he wants_ before he reluctantly handed the slightly wrinkled document back to his husband.

"I want to keep this," he told Brian. "I'm going to need it."

Brian watched as Justin placed the paperwork down on the patio table and smoothed it out carefully with his hands; he could see his lover's hand shaking slightly as he picked up the piece of paper again and studied it. He knew Justin was trying to look a lot calmer than he actually was, and he knew how much this had to be affecting him. Ever since Craig Taylor had first caught a whiff of his and Justin's relationship so long ago, the man had done everything he could to keep them apart. This, though, was a new low, even outdoing the time the bastard had had Justin arrested. He hadn't even known about that for a long time, not until it had slipped out one night over dinner with Jennifer, who had assumed he knew about it all along. It had happened when they were having difficulties in their relationship, however, and not too long before the bombing, which had taken precedence over everything else.

Justin's heart ached with pain as he stared at the paper; he felt like his heart had just been stabbed with a needle. At that moment, any hope that one day he and his father could somehow reach an understanding and at least start talking to each other again in hopes of eventually regaining some sort of father-son relationship was promptly smashed irretrievably. One last, irrational hope sprang inside him that perhaps he was reading the information wrong, that maybe there was another Taylor Electronics somewhere in Pennsylvania; but as he looked down at the information again, there it was: his father's company name and address, along with his name listed as CEO and the amount of the contribution to Turner's campaign: $30,000. Well above the legal limit a company could contribute publicly, and more than what he had thought his father could afford to spend. Apparently he had been sadly mistaken about that, however. His eyes stung with unshed tears that he refused to acknowledge as he carefully folded the paper into fourths and slid in into his jeans pocket.

"Justin?" was the concerned query from beside him as he agitatedly brushed his right hand through his hair and turned to look at Brian. "What do you mean, _you're going to need it_?"

"You all go ahead and finish your lunch," he told everyone at the table curtly. "I have an errand to run."

Tony locked concerned eyes with Fin. Just like everyone else at the table, he knew exactly what sort of 'errand' Justin felt he needed to undertake, and he didn't like the idea. One look at Brian's face and he knew Brian didn't, either. "I'll come with you," he impulsively volunteered to his friend. God knows that Justin had been there for him on numerous occasions for moral support; it was the least he could do. Besides, he had a sudden hankering to see the asshole of a father in person who was treating such a wonderful man as his friend like shit so he could give him a piece of his mind, too.

Justin shook his head. "Thank you, Tony, but no, this is one errand I need to run _alone_; so if you'll excuse me," he added stiffly as he turned to go. He didn't get far, however, before a hand clamped itself over his wrist to hold him in place.

"Justin, you are NOT going to meet your father by yourself!"

"I agree with Brian, Honey," Jennifer chimed in quietly. "I don't think that's such a good idea, especially with the mood that you're in."

Justin bristled as his eyes darkened with anger, the feeling of pain washing over him like a tidal wave. "The mood I'm in? You want to know how I feel right now, Mom? You really want to know? Well, I'll tell you! I'm fucking tired of constantly thinking that maybe one day, just one day, my father will finally decide that who I fuck doesn't matter after all and that I'm not some filthy, depraved piece of shit that needs to be scraped off the bottom of his boot against the sidewalk! I'm sick of still caring about WHAT he thinks or that I might one day actually have some sort of relationship with him again!" To his disgust, Justin found his voice catching as he added, "And I'm sick of thinking that maybe he might one day be proud of me instead of constantly finding ways to show how much he _despises_ me!" Despite his vow not to appear pathetic in front of Brian, his mother, and his friends, he couldn't help the tears that trickled down his cheeks now as he pressed his lips tightly together in an unsuccessful attempt to stop the flow.

"Shit!" he cried out in repugnance over what he viewed as a weakness. He angrily brushed the wetness from his cheeks as Brian reached out toward him. "No!" he shouted, attracting Gus's attention from his place on the tennis court nearby. "Leave me alone!" He roughly yanked his arm free of Brian's grasp as he whirled around to head quickly toward the back door, only to be intercepted by a pair of fast-moving little legs before he could reach his destination. "Poppa?"

Justin stopped where he stood, his back to Gus, as he closed his eyes to try and calm his raging emotions. He slowly uncurled his clenched fists and took a deep breath before he turned around to stare down into a pair of expressive, brown eyes. He forced a reassuring, slight smile on his face as he stooped down to look into the little boy's face. "What is it, Little Man?" he asked softly.

Gus reached over to gently wipe away the remaining wetness from Justin's cheeks with both hands. "Did you get hurt, Poppa?" he asked him in concern as he cupped his hands around Justin's face, forcing him to meet his worried gaze.

"Yeah, Buddy, I got hurt," Justin whispered back before he took another deep breath in and let it out. He placed his hands on top of Gus's smaller ones as he reassured him, "But I'm going to be okay, Gus; it's nothing for you to worry about." He took Gus's hands in his to drop them between their bodies and clasped them to his chest protectively, needing the feel of those small, warm, soft hands in his and seeking the grounding that they offered him. Unlike his father, he saw nothing but love and acceptance in the eyes peering back at him, helping to counteract the blackness he was feeling in his heart at the moment. "I'll be just fine, Gus. I just have to run out to do a little errand, that's all. I'll be back before you know it. And everyone else will stay here with you, so you can keep playing with your car, all right?"

"But I want to go _with_ you," Gus insisted as he gazed into the troubled, blue eyes. "We can get some ice cream," he said hopefully, remembering how many times he had been able to persuade Justin to stop and do just that whenever they were out together, unlike his father who always seemed to find a way to avoid it. Sometimes his poppa just seemed to understand him better for some reason.

Justin smiled at him tenderly. "Not this time, Gus," he told him gently. "But I promise we will real soon. Now I have to go, okay? The sooner I get there, the sooner I can come back." He felt terrible about having to disappoint his stepson, but there was no way he was taking him with him. "I'll tell you what - I'll stop at the grocery on my way back and pick us up some cookie dough ice cream and some waffle cones so we can fix one when I get home, okay? How's that?"

Gus's eyes lit up as he nodded in excitement over that plan. This way, he could keep playing with his remote-control car and get some of his favorite ice cream, too. "Okay, Poppa," he agreed with a smile. Justin let go of his hands with a smile of his own just before Gus reached over and grabbed his neck with both hands to pull him into a fierce hug.

Justin's hands slid around the tiny body in response as the two stayed there embracing for several seconds before, with a grunt and a slightly tighter squeeze, Justin let him go and smiled over at him again. "I'll be back soon," he promised him as he looked into his eyes.

Gus nodded just before he whispered, "Okay. I love you, Poppa. Hurry back."

Justin swallowed hard; he knew Gus wasn't anxious for him to return just because he was craving his favorite ice cream; he knew it went much deeper than that. His eyes glistened as he whispered back, "I will. I love you, too, Buddy." He reached over and kissed Gus lightly on the cheek before he stood up, and with one last gaze over at Brian who had been watching the entire scene with worried eyes along with everyone else at the table, turned around and quickly slid the door open and shut to disappear inside.

From her place at the table, Kathy thought her heart would break. It was so obvious how much Gus loved Justin; everyone loved him. What was it, then, that his own father couldn't see? Was he that blinded by hate and bigotry that he couldn't look beyond Justin's sexuality to see the wonderful, compassionate, kind, and courageous man his son had become? How incredibly sad, she couldn't help thinking, and what an insurmountable loss for Craig Taylor. He didn't _deserve_ a son like Justin. She reached over to take Sean's hand in hers as he gaze it a squeeze.

"Brian..." she heard Jennifer say, seeing Justin's mother's own eyes filled with tears over the disappointment and sorrow everyone could practically feel radiating from her son. "Are you just going to let him go?"

Brian sighed. "What would you have me do, Jennifer?" he asked her softly. "I fucking hate for him to confront him alone, but this is his battle to wage. He needs to do this by himself. He does not want me holding his hand - literally or figuratively - when he talks to him. And your ex needs to be told what a selfish, arrogant prick he is, and something tells me that Sunshine is just the right man for the job." That didn't mean, though, that he wouldn't have to be there later to help pick up the pieces. He knew Justin would be hurting deeply by the time he returned. How he wished his husband did not have to see his asshole of a father ever again! But he also knew to Justin it was important to clear the air between him. As painful as it was, Justin needed to realize that his secret dream of wanting to regain any father/son relationship with Craig Taylor was not going to happen. Only then was he certain that Justin could let it go completely and move on.

Jennifer blew out a tense breath and nodded. "Yeah, I guess you're right," she admitted as she cast a worried glance over at the back door. "I hate that man right now," she said to no one in particular. "I really hate him for doing this to Justin." She turned to look at Fin. "And for what he's doing to you, too. What in the hell was he thinking? How could he have possibly thought that Richard Turner was a better candidate for Governor?"

"He didn't," Fin told her simply. "He just decided that I _wasn't_. He didn't CARE who my opponent was." Fin turned to look over at Danny, who had remained mostly silent during the whole episode. "Danny, can't this man face some strong penalties for campaign funding violations?"

"Well, I'm not an expert, but yeah, he sure could. Why do you think Turner resigned so quickly? He knew he was in trouble, too. Sounds like this guy, though, was either too intent on destroying your chances of winning or was just too ignorant of campaign finance laws to adhere to the rules."

"Danny's right, Fin," Tony told his partner. "If Craig Taylor thought he had problems before, that will be nothing by the time the Feds get done with him. I assume we're going to take this public?"

Fin glanced over at his son. "Brian?" He felt his son, as his campaign manager as well as Justin's husband, should be the one to determine what to do with this troubling information. "What do you think? Do we go to the press with this?"

The group grew quiet as Brian pondered all the possible ramifications, both political as well as personal, of disclosing this information to the media. "Well, this information would have been a hell of a lot more damaging were Turner still your opponent," he stated as both Fin and Tony mutely nodded in agreement. "But with Whittle now running against you? We need to weigh the possible benefits of revealing this list to the public versus coming off as desperate to find a way to propel your popularity higher in the polls." The latest poll showed a very close race between his father and his old senate colleague; currently Fin was leading the Kaiser poll by five percentage points: 45% versus 40%, with 15% of the general public still undecided.

He bit his lip briefly in thought before he declared, "I say we pass this information along to the Feds anonymously and let them deal with it; I think you will make more of a positive impression with the voters by fielding policy questions well and providing answers to more relevant issues during the next two debates than taking credit for publicizing this document's salacious details." His father and Whittle were scheduled to face off with two more debates: one this coming Friday and the next one on the following Friday. "But it's your call, Fin; you're the candidate."

Fin shook his head firmly in disagreement. "No, _you're_ the campaign manager - and Justin's husband. I trust your judgment implicitly." He turned to the detective. "Danny, as always we'll be mum as to where this information came from if we're asked. Thank you for handling this on the QT for my son-in-law's sake."

Danny nodded. "No problem; I owed Tony big time from before, so I'm simply returning the favor." He took one last, big swig from his beer bottle before he, too, scooted back from the table. "If you all will excuse me, then, I have a little more business to take care of before I head back to Harrisburg. I think my favorite hacker is about to freeze someone's Caribbean account temporarily; poor thing," he said with a snicker; this was one time he was going to thoroughly enjoy thwarting someone's attempt to hide his wealth. "Nice meeting you all," he told Jennifer, Brian, Kathy, and Sean, who nodded back at him. "I'll just walk around the side of the house to the driveway; see ya." He gave them all a curt nod before placing his bottle down on the table and turning to walk away.

"I'll open the gate for you," Brian called out to him as Danny nodded without turning back around. Several seconds later, he disappeared from view. Brian couldn't help smiling smugly to himself a little as Danny left; none of them had thought about the possibility of Craig Taylor taking all his money out and closing up the account once Justin informed him that they were on to him; now, however, it appears he was going to have a little problem with that and he couldn't be happier about it.

The thought of Justin confronting his father alone, however, sobered him as he sat back down; Gus came rushing up to him as he pulled him onto his lap and slid his arms around to hold him close; somehow just having Gus in his arms helped at least somewhat to assuage a little of his concern for Justin. "Just once I'd like to have a barbecue without any family melodrama as the appetizer," he murmured to the others as he breathed in his son's sweet, innocent smell, remembering how he had met Fin and Tony one day not too long ago during an event much like this one. At least that encounter had eventually led to a good thing, though; it was a far cry from what he suspected Justin was about to endure.

* * *

_Thirty Minutes Later_

Justin pulled up in front of the tree-lined street containing the two-story, brick building housing his father's condo where he currently resided with his wife, Laurie, and their newborn daughter. He had never actually seen his half-sister since she had been born; he had heard about her from Molly after she had gone to see her in the hospital, but apart from seeing a photo of her on his sister's cellphone, he had never seen her in person. Of course, he hadn't seen his father in years, either; not since he had called the police to report him as a trespasser. As far as his father had been concerned, apparently he was as good as disowned since that day. Only now, though, did he realize just how much his father apparently rejected him completely.

He slowed the car down as he parked at the curb directly across from the building and, turning the ignition off, stared through the open driver's side window over at the structure, seeing no activity upstairs. There was a light shining by one of the windows, however, its glow just now starting to be noticeable in the slowly waning daylight. He wondered if both his father and his new wife were home; he had only met Laurie very briefly once before when he had come to the condo to show his father some of his drawings and to swallow his pride and his dignity long enough to ask if he would help him out with his tuition at PIFA. Of course, that hadn't happened, despite his wish that somehow his father would finally realize that he was a person, not a sexual orientation. Obviously, though, his father couldn't see one without the other back then and still couldn't.

Letting out a nervous breath, he slid the window back up and soon emerged from the driver's side; walking across the street and up the cement sidewalk he studied the residence. It was an older brick building - square in shape with two identical doors on either side servicing two sets each for the four tenants - but it was well-kept and the shrubs surrounding the front windows neatly manicured into large, round balls of green. It was apparently built well before the days of high security, however, not having any buzzer to be announced but merely allowing any stranger to open the door and proceed up to the occupant's apartment. Justin stood there, composing his thoughts for several seconds, until he opened the left screen door and exterior, solid wooden door and began to walk up the steps directly leading to the entrance to his father's condo above.

He swallowed hard as he stood at the door at last. His anger from earlier was still there simmering inside, but the hurt he was feeling superseded that as he finally raised his hand and rapped three times in quick succession. A few seconds later, he could hear footsteps inside approaching as his heart began to pound in anxiety. He held his breath as he heard a door latch being unlocked and the door being opened. As he lifted his gaze to peer at the person opening it, he wasn't sure if he was relieved or disappointed to see that it was his father's new wife instead.

Laurie Taylor was slim and tall with light, brown hair and green eyes. She resembled his mother in some ways - several years younger, but classically dressed in form-fitting, cream-colored linen slacks and a two-piece, beige sweater set. A simple gold chain and matching hoop earrings complimented her outfit. For a new mother, Justin couldn't help thinking how meticulously she was groomed from her hair neatly swept up into a loose-fitting chignon down to her manicured French nails as she peered back at him curiously. "Yes?" she asked politely as she stood there appraising him, no doubt thinking he was some kind of salesman or Jehovah's Witness representative.

Justin decided there was no point in beating around the bush. "I'm looking for my father," he stated simply.

He could see the look of recognition flicker in her eyes now as her mouth opened in surprise. "Oh! You're Craig's son; I remember you now. Justin, right?" At least there was no sign of contempt in her face as she spoke to him; apparently his father's derision wasn't transferred to her, or she was an excellent actress at hiding it from him.

Justin nodded, unable to plaster any type of smile on his face. He didn't hate this woman; he really didn't feel anything toward her, because neither she nor her father had ever bothered to let him get to know her, just like they never thought it was important that he get to know his baby half-sister, either. Normally he would have loved to have met her; now, though, it was as if the baby belonged to a stranger, not to his own father. "Yes. Is he here?"

She shook her head and almost seemed apologetic as she told him, "No, I'm sorry; he's still at the store. Would you like to come in? I can call him and let him know you're here."

Justin frowned slightly; was this woman serious? Did she really think his father _wanted_ to see him or that he wanted to come in and wait for him while she played hostess? Surely his father hadn't kept his opinions about his 'aberrant' lifestyle to himself. Her question was almost comical. He snorted softly, unable to help himself. "No, thanks," he said coolly. "I'll go see him myself." He turned to go but was stopped by her voice.

"Justin? Wouldn't you like to see your half-sister?"

Justin turned back around to face her, unable to hide his incredulity. "Are you kidding me?"

She was taken aback by the harsh tone of his voice. "You did know that your father and I have a baby? Her name is Cassandra. Wouldn't you like to meet her? After all, you are related." Laurie gave him a nervous half-smile. "She has the same hair color and eyes as you, in fact."

Justin wasn't sure how to answer this woman. Was she rational? "Why would you care?"

She frowned. "Excuse me?"

"I said... Why would you care if I got to see her or not? She's what? Six months old now?"

Laurie looked at him uncomfortably as she fidgeted up and down on the balls of her feet. "Yes. I just thought..."

Despite not really knowing this woman at all, to Justin it was all just too much. "Well, you thought wrong!" he couldn't help retorting as she shrunk back slightly from his vehemence. "Neither you NOR my so-called father have had anything to do with me for years now! Why would this be any different? If you really wanted me in my half-sister's life, you would have called me when she was born and not just offered to let me see her because I just happened to show up on your doorstep! By the way, did you know?"

Craig's wife furrowed her brow in confusion. "Know what?" she whispered, struck by the angry, hurt look on her visitor's face.

"Did you know that your bigoted prick of a husband contributed $30,000 to Turner's gubernatorial campaign as a big 'fuck you' to me and Brian?"

The woman looked at him in shock. "What are you talking about?"

Justin rolled his eyes; was this woman being kept in the dark, too? He found that hard to believe, but not entirely impossible. He did not have the time or the patience to even contemplate it, however; besides, did it really matter? "You expect me to believe that you weren't aware that your upstanding husband has an offshore account where he has a quarter million dollars stashed in it? And that he gave $30,000 to a man who's a homophobe and was so desperate to win that he had to use blackmail to try and get it? That my own father hates my lifestyle so much that he would do anything to prevent my father-in-law from becoming governor?"

Laurie Taylor's eyes threatened to bulge out of her head as she gasped; Craig insisted that she stay home like a dutiful little housewife and mother, even though he constantly groused about not having enough money to live from month to month, while he had a quarter-million dollars hidden off shore? "I don't believe you," she murmured, her heart dropping.

However, some events that had happened in the past few months were finally beginning to make sense: how her husband seemed to constantly be on the phone with his accountant, excusing himself from the room as he explained it was some dull, money-crunching conversation; Craig insisting on handling all of their financial matters as he doled out just enough for her to buy their monthly groceries and pay their regular utility expenses, not to mention the occasion a few weeks ago when she had discovered her husband's computer displaying a web page from some bank in the Bahamas while Craig was taking a shower to get ready for work. At the time she had questioned him about it, only to be cut short by a curt explanation that it was connected to some bigwig supplier who wasn't paying his bills to him on time. When she had tried to ask how he could even find out any information about another company's financial solvency when it wasn't his own account, Craig had dismissed her question, angrily telling her that she didn't understand his company's client dealings and that they were none of her business and to just stay out of it.

Now, however, everything began to fall into place, and as much as she hated the idea, she had to admit that perhaps this defiant, angry young man standing in front of her might just be right about his accusations. Her eyes filled with tears of betrayal as she whispered, "No, it can't be true. He wouldn't do that."

Justin shook his head; either this woman was an amazing actress, or his father had deceived one more person. He chose to believe the latter as he told her quietly, "Yes, he would; he _did_. I saw the proof with my own eyes. There's irrefutable documentation of it." He paused for a moment as he gazed into her anguished face and found to his surprise that he felt sorry for her. "I'm sorry you had to find out this way," he told her softly. "But it's time you realize what sort of man you're married to. He's a selfish, hateful, judgmental, bigoted asshole who doesn't give a shit who he hurts in the process, even his own son. Just pray that your daughter doesn't wind up being a queer or God help her - and God help _you_." Without another word, Justin turned and strode down the hallway toward the steps, never looking back and leaving a dumbstruck, heartbroken woman in his wake.

* * *

_Taylor Electronics Store - Downtown Pittsburgh - 8:30 p.m._

Craig pinched his nose with his fingers in frustration, punching in a key to transfer most of last month's store profits into his offshore account as he sat in front of his laptop at his desk, his face pasty in the white glow of the computer screen. No matter how many times he keyed in the password, however, the account wouldn't open. What the fuck was wrong with this bank? A dimly lit green banker's lamp provided a small amount of light on the corner of his desk, but at this late hour he always preferred to work without the glare of bright illumination, which tended to give him a migraine if he stared at his laptop for too long. He sighed, feeling the typical eye strain he normally got whenever he stayed over too late at his office. Despite his company having a record year presently, mainly by purchasing bulk quantities of smart phones and reselling them for ridiculously high profit margins, and his luck playing the horses when he told everyone he was at 'business meetings,' he was getting weary of constantly having to hide the surplus funds from the Feds. Worst of all, his wife, Laurie, was starting to get suspicious of all his secretive activities, calling him out on all the times he had to excuse himself to take phone calls and how he immediately turned off the computer monitor to his desktop whenever he was in his home study and she happened to appear in the doorway, as well as the late-night hours he constantly kept at the store. He had a strong suspicion that his excuse about working on tax-related issues here was beginning to wear thin with her. Despite bowing to his wish for her to be a stay-at-home mother, she had a college education and wasn't stupid; he knew eventually he would have to come up with a new story to keep her mollified. For now, though, he was more concerned with simply trying to move his money around and check on his account balance, both of which were proving extremely elusive for him at the moment.

A sharp knock on his office door made him start slightly in irritation; his employees knew better than to bother him when he was working late at night at the store. He had given them strict instructions not to forward calls, nor interrupt him in any manner while the door was closed. Not for the first time, he thought about cutting back on his operating hours late at night so this wouldn't even be an issue, but the unorthodox hours that he was openfor business helped fuel his outrageous profits, so he knew that it would be cutting his throat if he did so.

"What is it?" he called out angrily in agitation. "I told you I did NOT want to be disturbed. If you don't want to have your ass canned, I suggest you leave NOW."

The door was flung open so violently then that it banged against the opposite wall; Craig's blood ran cold as he instantly recognized who was standing silhouetted in the doorway, the bright glare from the store's showroom lights bathing the slim figure in shadow. "What are YOU doing here?" he growled as he masked his surprise, feeling a lot less confident than his voice portrayed.

Justin walked slowly toward his father, his hands shaking with anger as they balled into fists. "This is going to be my last conversation with you," he quietly vowed to his father as he walked up to stand next to his old, cumbersome, oak desk. The desk used to belong to his grandfather, who used to be an accountant in a major brokerage firm for thirty years. How he missed seeing him! Robert Taylor had been a wise, fair, and kind man; if he were here now, Justin had no doubt that he would be feeling the same sort of anger and indignation that he was feeling. His grandfather, who died of a massive heart attack ten years ago, wouldn't have given a shit _what_ his sexual orientation was. He had always taken everyone at their word and based his opinion of them on what sort of character they had, not on who they loved. How his own father could have fallen so far from the family tree, then, was astounding and unfathomable to him. But he had. And now it was up to him to sever this damaging, hurtful link once and for all and concentrate on the part of his family that _did_ accept him. "I know what you did," he told Craig with quiet determination as he stared down into the other face unflinchingly. Inside, though, his stomach was churning with revulsion for what his father had become and his heart was beating furiously.

Craig brushed his hand through his hair, feeling the painful throbbing coming from a vein in his head; the dull ache was quickly deteriorating into a full-blown migraine as he closed the lid to his laptop to buy a little time. "What the fuck are you prattling on about, Justin?" he countered wearily. "I'm a busy man; I don't have time for this mumbo-jumbo from you."

"Working on the books, Dad?" Justin inquired as his eyes bored into his. "It's not easy hiding all that money from everyone, including your own wife, is it? Or from Mom, either."

Craig's heart began to pound as he tried furiously to maintain a neutral expression on his face; he could feel a cold sweat beading on his forehead as he retorted, "I have no idea what you're talking about. Now will you kindly leave my office before I have to call security - again - to throw you out?" Was it possible that his son actually knew something, or was he just guessing and being incredibly lucky?

Justin's eyes watered despite his best intentions over his father's callous treatment of him as if he were the lowest scum on Earth as he told him, "I know about all the money, Dad! I know you aren't about to go under! I KNOW! I know you're hiding a quarter-million dollars in the Caribbean! And soon everyone else will know, too!" He pressed his lips tightly together to compose himself, watching his father's face pale as he couldn't help asking mournfully, "Why, Dad? Why did you feel like you needed to hide it? And how long have you been doing it? Just in the past few years after you divorced Mom? Or was it before that, when I needed tuition money and you kept telling Mom and me that you couldn't afford to give me any? How long has this been fucking going on, huh?" He braced both arms on the table as he stared down at his father. "Tell me, damn it!"

Craig's eyes widened. Obviously, his son DID know something. But how? And worse, what would happen if everyone _else_ knew? "How... How did you find this out?" he finally sputtered, realizing it was probably fruitless to try and lie about it but not knowing just how much Justin DID know. He smirked back at him. "Besides, you can't prove anything, Justin; it would be your word against mine, and..."

"... And no one would believe a faggot like me? Is that it, Dad? Is that what you were going to say? Well, I've got news for you, Mr. Big Shot! There's proof! Written proof of what you've done! Down to what bank account you have the money in and the $30,000 that you gave to that asshole Turner's campaign!" Justin could see the blood drain out of his father's face as he continued, "And don't think, by the way, that you can just close the account down now and hide it somewhere else! Oh, you can take it out, I suppose, but that won't hide your tracks, Dad! You always _were_ deficient when it came to computer expertise! Besides, there's already a printout of all your activity. It won't be long now before the Election Fraud Commission gets a copy of it. So enjoy your money now while you can, Dad, because it won't do you much fucking good in prison!" All of his anger and anguish came flowing out of him as Justin gazed down in disgust at the man he used to revere and admire, and yes, love. All that had evaporated now and seemed like so long ago.

Craig's face was contorted with rage and contempt. "You little ungrateful shit!" he yelled as he pushed his chair back and stood up eye to eye with his son, his face red with fury. "How DARE you? How dare you interfere with my life? What have you done, Justin? I can't even get into the fucking account now, thanks to you!" He huffed loudly. "This is all HIS fault - him and that queer father!" Craig spat out. "Ever since you met Kinney, he has done nothing but ruin your life! Don't you see that? And now he's out to ruin mine!"

Justin laughed at the absurdity of his father's statement as he stood up straighter and rubbed the back of his neck with his left hand. "No, _Dad_! What I see is a man who loves me for who I am! A man who respects me and supports me and stands by whatever I decide! Someone who has never failed to be there when I needed him! Which is a hell of a lot more than I can say for YOU! Brian and Fin are much more a part of my 'family' than you will ever be!"

Craig squared his jaw. "That's not true, Justin, and you know it! What happened to you? What happened to the son that I used to be so proud of?"

Justin's eyes filled with tears. "Your _son _didn't die, Dad! I'm right here! He grew up! But if you can't accept me for who I am, then YOU'RE the sorry one! And it's just too damned bad!" He swallowed hard as he shook his head. "I might as WELL be dead to you, though," he told him sadly. "I AM dead to you as far as you're concerned, aren't I? Well, you know what? I actually feel _sorry_ for you! I PITY you! And I pity your wife and your new baby, because they're the ones who will have to pick up the pieces now. And one more thing... Going forward the feeling's mutual; you're dead to me now, too."

Craig's eyes darkened with hatred. "Get out of here, Justin! You are NOTHING to me now, do you understand? You're NOTHING!" In a fit of fury, Craig abruptly took his hand and swept everything off from the top of his desk, including his laptop, which crashed to the hardwood floor with a resounding clatter. "Now get the hell out before I throw you out myself!"

Justin closed his eyes for a couple of second as pain washed over him. "I won't give you that pleasure, you son of a bitch; I'm going." Forcing his legs to move, he whirled around and walked toward the door. Just before he left, however, he turned around to face the broken shell that was once his father, his idol; his mentor and guide. Now all he saw was a bitter, battered, and frightened old man. Justin blew out a tension-filled breath as he said quietly, "Goodbye, Dad."

As he left the office and began to head toward the steps taking him down to the main showroom, his father's enraged voice could be heard shouting after him. "Don't ever come back here, Justin! You're dead to me! You hear me - DEAD! You're sick! I never want to see you ever again!"

He was still shouting at the top of his lungs as Justin, face burning with embarrassment over the looks customers as well as employees were giving him, rushed toward the door, knowing he would never step foot in that space ever again; nor would he ever see - or talk - to the man that he used to idolize and look up to. His composure and pride that propped him up lasted as long as the front door; as soon as he flung it open and felt the coolness of the night air enveloping him, his face clouded over and the tears began to fall in earnest over what he had lost and would never regain. Only the open arms of his husband unexpectedly leaning against his 'Vette while waiting for him by the curb saved him from sinking to his knees and mourning what he had lost forever.

* * *

Brian's heart ached as the man he loved more than his own life stumbled out of Craig Taylor's store. It had been sheer luck that he chose to come here rather than drive to the asshole's condo first; as soon as he spied Justin's SUV stationed in the fairly empty, side parking lot, he knew he had picked the right place. Then it had taken every ounce of willpower and self-discipline he had inside him not to go rushing into the building and pull Justin back out, because he knew, he just knew, that this would be an emotional blow that would strike deeply, despite what the man had done to him over the past several years. Because when it was all said and done, the man was still Justin's father, and Brian was now beginning to understand what a strong tie that word could conjure up. Before he had met Fin, it would have never resonated with him, but now he understood how it could feel to invest your emotions, trust, and faith in someone that you thought loved you, only to have it yanked out from underneath you. Now, after meeting his _real_ father, a man who he had come to admire and respect, he knew how HE would feel if the same thing ever happened to him.

It hadn't taken Brian long to decide after Justin left Britin that he had to come back into town and be there for him when he needed him. Now, as Justin's red-rimmed, glistening eyes lifted to meet his and he watched him force his legs to move toward him, he knew he had made the right decision.

Justin had never been more relieved to see Brian than he did at that moment; how did he know how much he would need him? He didn't care, though; the important thing was that he did, and it gave him just enough residual inner strength to propel himself into Brian's open arms as his husband met him halfway and swept him up against his chest into a tight hug. "Brian," Justin breathed out as if he was just now getting oxygen back into his lungs. "Brian..."

"Shhh," Brian whispered back against the top of his head as he held onto Justin's trembling body protectively. Justin was normally such a strong, determined presence; for him to become so clingy all of a sudden must be a testament to how devastating his meeting with his prick of a father must have been. "Everything's going to be okay. I've got you, Sunshine," he vowed softly as he felt Justin's hands slide around his back in response. They just stood there in the coolness of the evening, the streetlamp above and the storefront's neon letters providing the majority of illumination now. He was dying to know what had happened between Justin and his father, but for now he knew it wasn't the time to ask. Justin would tell him everything he needed to know when the time was right. For now, he did what he knew Justin needed most; silently hold his husband and let him know that he WAS loved and cherished, despite what his monster of a father had done.

From his large picture window above the store, Craig Taylor knocked back a large swig of whiskey from his shot glass as he watched his son and his _husband _(the word almost made him vomit) embracing in front of his store. His face darkened with rage; he was 'this close' to calling the police to report them, but realistically he knew the police had quickly grown weary of all the calls he constantly made to them complaining about all the demonstrations the queers seem to delight in performing on the sidewalk in front of his store and he knew they would probably tell him the same thing he had been told before: as long as the 'demonstrators' were on a public sidewalk and not impeding others from entering his store, there was nothing they could do about it. He finished off the rest of his liquor before slamming the glass down onto his wet bar, wondering now what in the hell he was going to do. If everything Justin said was true - about the documentation he had - he was as good as convicted already. As a business owner, he knew all too well the pitfalls of hiding money offshore and the risks of contributing funds to a political candidate that went above the legal limits. He had taken the risk anyway on both counts, somehow deluding himself into thinking he would be the one that wouldn't get caught, and now it had all blown up in his face. _Shit_. Bile rose into his throat at the thought of being publicly humiliated now; and worse of all, it would be done by the very people he despised and detested. Where was justice in the world when a bunch of immoral fags could hold his fate in their hands? How did he let this happen? Closing his eyes briefly in dread, he opened them just in time to see his now ex-son and Kinney walk toward a sports car parked nearby. He watched through hooded eyes as he held the passenger door open for Justin and closed it behind him before walking around to the driver's side door and sliding in behind the wheel. He saw Kinney lean over toward the passenger seat briefly - God only knows what he was doing, but he guessed he was actually _kissing_ Justin in the car in front of his store! - before the car slowly pulled out into traffic and was enveloped by the darkness.

The realization of what he was no doubt about to lose - both personally and financially - welled up inside of him just before he picked up the now empty, crystal-glass liquor decanter and, grasping it by the narrow neck, reared his hand back and threw it violently against the far wall, the container splintering into a thousand pieces. Walking over to his desk a few seconds later, he picked up the receiver off the floor to his landline phone and dialed his attorney's personal phone number.

"Kevin? Craig Taylor." Craig said down on the edge of his desk and took a deep breath before he began, "I... I need to talk to you right away."

* * *

Justin was inexplicably quiet as they drove on into the night, Brian stealing furtive glances over at his husband periodically but receiving nothing in reaction. At least not for a few minutes; Justin kept his gaze turned toward the passenger side window, his forehead leaning against the coolness of the glass as Brian steered the car toward their destination. He finally couldn't stand it any longer, reaching his hand over to take Justin's in his; he was heartened when Justin curled his fingers over his hand in response and squeezed it firmly. He thought he heard a soft sigh escape Justin's lips then, but he couldn't be sure over the steady thrumming of the car's powerful engine.

Finally, after he made a left turn a few blocks down, Justin turned his head to peer over at him. "Where are we going?" he whispered, his voice low, hoarse, and raspy. He knew this wasn't the way back to the main road toward Britin.

"I told everyone to stay back at home and just relax, even stay the night if they wanted to," Brian informed him softly. "But we're staying at the loft tonight." At that moment, he was glad that he had chosen not to sell his city residence; he had always thought it was a good idea to keep it for the times when he was too busy working late into the night at Kinnetik and needed a quick place to crash for a few hours and get cleaned up before heading back in. He never thought, however, that it might be needed one day for a sanctuary for his husband, but that was the way he thought of it right now. Somehow it seemed right that the place where he and Justin had forged so many memories, and the first place where they had made love, would also be the ideal destination to repair someone's damaged heart and soul. "Is that all right with you?" he asked Justin tentatively, knowing if his husband objected strenuously to the idea he would take him back home to Britin, or wherever else he wanted to be.

He glanced to the road before turning back to peer over into Justin's eyes now as Justin nodded. "Yeah... It's more than okay," he told him. "I... I just want to be alone tonight - with _you_."

Brian smiled over at him tenderly as he gave Justin's hand a squeeze of his own and nodded, turning his attention back to the road.

* * *

Spooned up against Justin in bed after a frantic round of lovemaking earlier, Brian slowly caressed the soft skin of Justin's shoulder as his thumb rubbed small circles back and forth on the warm, smooth flesh; his left leg was tangled up with his husband's shorter ones as they lay close together, side by side. All the pain, sorrow, and hurt seemed to flow out of Justin earlier as he met Brian's body thrust for thrust; Brian's intention to go slow and sweet with his lover had quickly escalated into a more hectic, passionate, almost violent coupling, no doubt spurred on by Justin's encounter earlier with his father. It was almost as if his husband was trying to let all of his negative emotions erupt outward and needed that rough edge to purge himself of the darkness inside. Brian hadn't questioned his actions as he had kept pace with him, nor did he push him to explain, merely deciding to serve in whatever role Justin needed him to play at the time.

Now he could hear his husband's soft, steady breathing by his side, but he knew instinctively that he wasn't asleep. Not that they both weren't emotionally as well as physically spent by the day's events, but he just knew Justin's mind had to be too engrossed with the earlier confrontation with his father to be at peace enough for sleep to overtake him. "Justin?" he whispered softly as he continued to slowly rub his shoulder lovingly.

Justin sighed almost imperceptibly, a mournful sort of breath, before he turned to lie flat on his back and peer up into the concerned eyes of his soulmate. He reached up to lightly stroke Brian's cheek with the back of his hand as Brian captured it in his and brought both up to his mouth to gently kiss Justin's knuckles before he brought them down to rest casually on Justin's chest. "You want to talk about it?" he asked him quietly.

Justin licked his lips and then bit the lower one in contemplation before he let out a tense breath; Brian couldn't help thinking that even in his state of anxiety, with his freshly-fucked, sweaty skin and his tousled golden hair, Justin was so beautiful to him, inside as well as out, and he couldn't stop thinking what a lucky bastard he was to have someone like this beautiful man as his husband. "Talk to me, Justin," he implored gently.

Justin sighed again. "There's really not much to tell, Brian. It was just like I thought it would be. I went to his condo first and ran into his new wife, who apparently didn't know what he had been doing. At least if she did, she was one hell of a good actress. I really don't think she knew about the money he had been hiding." He snorted slightly in irony. "She even asked me if I wanted to meet my half-sister; can you believe it?"

He shook his head in disbelief. "I turned that down," he said as he rolled his eyes. "I told her it was a little too late to worry about meeting the newest addition to the family now. Anyway, she told me he was working late at the store, so I headed over there, but not before telling her everything I knew and that there was written proof of it, too." He paused. "I don't think she was too happy when I left."

"I guess not," Brian replied softly, not wanting to say too much. He waited for Justin to continue, knowing not to press him too hard. "Do you think she called him to warn him you were coming?"

Justin frowned. "You know, I don't think she did. Not from the reaction he had to me when I knocked on his office door anyway. He thought I was one of the employees interrupting him. And he did yell out something about not wanting to be disturbed, so maybe she _did_ try to call but couldn't get through. He certainly acted shocked enough when I opened the door and he recognized who it was."

Brian gazed down into the troubled, blue eyes, knowing how painful it must be for Justin to relive what had happened. But he also knew Justin NEEDED to talk and he needed to share his pain with him. In an odd way, he found that to be quite an honor. He didn't say anything, but rather waited for Justin to take a breath and continue.

"He was working on his laptop when I came in," Justin said, his eyes looking straight ahead and not focusing on anything in particular. No doubt the earlier events were swirling around in his mind. "I told him right off the bat that I knew. I knew all about the money he was hiding and about the campaign contribution. And you know what?" he asked, his eyes coming back to focus on Brian's face. "He didn't even try to deny it! He just told me I couldn't prove anything." He smiled to himself. "You should have seen his face, though, when I told him about the documentation. He turned about two shades whiter than normal." Justin's brow knitted in thought. "You know, he told me he wasn't able to access the account, and he accused me of tampering with hit. Do you have any idea why that would be?"

Brian's eyes widened. "Boy, Danny the Dick's hacker friend works fast! He left not too long after you did, after telling us that he was going to work on getting that account frozen. Looks like he managed to succeed before you got to your father's store to confront him. That probably explains why he couldn't access it. Danny was afraid he would try to pull all the money out before his activities could be reported to the Feds. There still would have been an electronic fingerprint of anything he had done, but it's a lot easier to prove what your father did if the money is still in there."

Justin nodded in understanding. "Well, he wasn't too happy about it." He gazed into Brian's eyes. "Of course, he blamed everything on you - you and your father - and how you had corrupted me from the first day we had met."

Brian's eyes flashed. "That same old shit? The least he could do is come up with a different tactic. Justin, he's fighting back the only way he knows how with that righteous, holier-than-thou bullshit that he's always used. You know that." He slowly caressed Justin's hand with his thumb soothingly in reassurance.

Justin nodded. "I know. And I told him that you and Fin were much more my family than he would ever be. I told him, too, that it would be the last conversation I would ever have with him, or the last time I would ever see him again. I... I told him that from now on, he was dead to me and that I actually pitied him." Justin swallowed hard as he felt the prickle of tears behind his eyes. He lifted his gaze to stare into Brian's loving face as he whispered back in a shaky voice, "But it still hurts, Brian. It still fucking hurts."

Brian pulled him then into his arms as they rocked slowly back and forth together. He heard Justin's breath hitch in a sort of sob as he told him softly, "I know, Sunshine. I know it does." They stayed locked in a tight embrace for several seconds before Justin broke off slightly to peer up into his husband's strong, handsome face. He leaned up to kiss Brian's lips gently as he whispered against his mouth, "Make love to me, Brian. Help me to forget. Just for tonight - help me to stop thinking about what I've lost and remind me of the blessings that I have instead."

Brian pulled back to stare into the bright, blue eyes as he nodded. Leaning in to kiss him again softly, he gently pushed Justin down onto his back again, his hands beginning a slow, sensual exploration all over Justin's body. "You never have to ask me that," Brian murmured as he began to show Justin just how much he did love him.


	29. Justin's Dream Laid Bare

_Justin's encounter with his father inadvertently leads him to reveal one of his most desired dreams; some disconcerting news is delivered to them regarding Adam Stewart._

* * *

_Next Morning_

It was almost ten o'clock the next day before Justin finally began to regain wakefulness, first stretching out in their spacious, king-sized bed on his back before flinging his right hand over to feel for his husband; when all he came up with was empty space, his eyes fluttered open and he turned his head to stare at nothing but a crumpled sheet.

"Hey," he heard softly just then from the other side of the bed as he twisted the other way and noticed Brian standing beside him with a coffee mug in his hand. Justin scooted up in the bed as Brian sat down next to him; he noticed his husband was wearing the same pair of jeans he had had on before, and that triggered his mind into wandering back to yesterday's events: the day that had started out so promising with their family and friends, only to be marred later by the bigotry and ugliness epitomized by his father. He closed his eyes briefly in an attempt to shut out what had happened between the two of them, the pain still raw but tempered now by the tender passion Brian had shown to him last night as they had made love, but he was not totally successful; the emotional encounter with his father refused to go away. As he opened his eyes back up, another thought emerged to coalesce with the other one as he furrowed his brow in concern and uttered a single word. "Gus."

Brian handed the mug to Justin, keeping his fingers curled around his momentarily before he placed his hand down on Justin's thigh. "What about him?"

"The ice cream..." Justin turned to look into his husband's eyes with remorse. "I told him I would bring him back some ice cream yesterday, and I let him down."

"Justin..." Brian gave his thigh a squeeze, amazed that his lover would worry about something like that after what he had been through last night. "It's okay; I took care of it."

Justin frowned as he curled both hands around the mug, observing the wisps of steam rising from the liquid; Brian had already placed cream and sugar in it, just the way he knew he liked it. "You did?"

Brian nodded. "After you went to sleep I sent Jen a text to ask if she could take Gus into town to the ice cream shop today and buy him a sundae with lots of gooey hot fudge, nuts, marshmallows, and two cherries on top - just how someone _else_ I know likes it," he said with a smile as he leaned down and kissed Justin playfully on the nose; he sobered a little as he explained, "I had to let her know we wouldn't be coming home last night and the reason why; I figured texting her would be the best way to make sure I didn't disturb you and wake you up." Brian had been glad the two of them had been able to spend some much-needed private time together last night, but he despised the reason why; or rather, the _person_ who had caused his husband so much pain. Justin may already consider Craig dead, but if HE had the displeasure of ever running into him personally, he would be sorely tempted to ensure he WAS dead in every sense of the word.

Justin nodded at him. "Thanks," he replied softly as he stared down thoughtfully at his coffee. He felt Brian's hand on his shoulder a few seconds later as he lifted his gaze to stare into his husband's concerned eyes - the eyes he had trusted and depended upon so many times before; the eyes that were reflecting back the love he felt for _him_. "I'm okay," he told him in answer to his unspoken question. He sighed and let out a heavy breath. "I meant what I said last night, Brian; Craig Taylor is dead to me now." Despite his words, though, the realization still made his heart heavy with sorrow.

Brian reached up to play with Justin's soft tendrils of hair at the back of his neck as he whispered, "I know that's what you say, but I know you, Justin; you can't just turn off your feelings like a light switch."

Justin's hands grasped tightly onto the coffee mug, somehow deriving strength and an odd feeling of grounding from the heat permeating through the china. "No, I can't," he admitted, knowing Brian would realize that. "But it's going to get better over time. I've decided to concentrate on what I DO have, and the family that loves me, not that asshole who just happened to contribute his sperm toward my birth." Despite his statement, he shook his head sadly, though, allowing himself one last moment of _what could have been_. "I just don't know how a person can go from being such an involved, loving father to changing into such a bigoted, hateful human being simply because his son decided to fall in love with a guy instead of a girl. How can someone who professed to love me change so much?"

Brian continued to feather his fingers lightly through his husband's hair as he reminded him softly, "It's not like you had a choice, Sunshine; not unless you chose to live your life as one, big, fat lie, and that's not the way you are. You could have no more lived like that than I could have."

Justin nodded as he inhaled a deep breath. Pursing his lips together in resolve, he stated honestly, "No, I couldn't. And it's time for me - for ALL of us - to move on and ignore the bastard." He paused for a few seconds before he asked, "What do you think will happen to him? It sounds like Danny's succeeded in preventing him from withdrawing any money from that account, so I don't think he could get very far if he tried to take off without it. But I wouldn't put it past him." He shook his head. "I wish I could say with a new baby he would have enough morals to feel obligated to stay here for her sake, but my father obviously doesn't HAVE any morals. If he did, he wouldn't have kicked me to the fucking curb like a stray dog."

Brian nodded as he gently pulled Justin closer to him by the scruff of his neck. Taking a moment to rest his forehead against the side of Justin's neck, he whispered, "Well, he's the fucking loser, Justin. Always has been and always will be. _I'm_ the lucky one."

Justin turned his head to look into Brian's eyes from inches away. "We both are," he whispered before their lips came together for a deep, heartfelt kiss that quickly gave way to a smoldering passion just like it always did.

As they reluctantly broke apart several seconds later to catch their breaths, Justin's next words were out of his mouth before he gave them much thought. "If I ever had a child, I would never do that to him or her, no matter _what_ they chose to do with their life or who they chose to love." _Shit. Why did I say that? _he thought._ Maybe Brian won't pick up on it._ But to his consternation, he did.

Brian's fingers stilled on Justin's neck before he reached to place his hand on his lover's cheek; he stroked the slightly-stubbled skin there with the back of his knuckles, watching Justin's eyes shift themselves downward toward his coffee mug, a sure sign that his husband was uneasy about something. Nevertheless, or perhaps because of it, he pressed him gently, "Justin? What do you mean by that? You _have_ a child; _WE_ have a child. Gus. And you've already _taught_ him the clear meaning of unconditional love."

Justin lifted his head then to turn and look at Brian, a grateful smile ghosting across his lips; it was a smile, though, that didn't quite go all the way to his eyes, Brian thought, adding to his suspicions that he was touching on a subject that Justin didn't particularly want to discuss.

"Thanks for saying that, Brian; that means a lot to me," he heard Justin whisper back.

Brian nodded as he gazed at his husband thoughtfully; that wasn't good enough for him, however. "You still haven't explained what you meant just now, though."

Justin appeared decidedly flustered, cursing himself inwardly at his spontaneous remark. "It was just a suppositional statement, that's all."

"No, I don't think so," his husband murmured insistently as he slowly stroked his fingers against the warm skin of Justin's cheek and noticed his lover's face flush over the intensity of his gaze. He stared quietly into the blue eyes that he knew so well, into the _face_ he knew so well. He frowned slightly as he thought about what Justin had just said and put two and two together , realizing he had never even contemplated such an event. "I think there's more to it than that." He paused just long enough to steel himself before he asked, "Justin, are you trying to tell me that you want a child?"

Justin chewed on his lower lip as he stared into Brian's eyes, trying hard to ascertain what he saw there. Love, certainly, concern, maybe even curiosity; but what else? The question had been framed so softly without any hint of ridicule or judgment that he couldn't tell _what_ Brian was thinking. His previous conversation he had had with his mother at Britin after Gus had discovered his drawings of the fantasy nursery filtered through his mind. At the time she had told him he needed to talk to Brian about it, that it wasn't fair to leave him in the dark, and he recalled telling her that during the campaign, with everything going on, it wasn't a good time, that he would discuss it with him later. But he hadn't counted on this conversation taking place, either, or his own father's involvement with Turner. He hadn't meant to blurt out his feelings just now about how _he_ would handle being a father; it had simply come out. Now that it had, though, he knew he was going to have to deal with it. And in retrospect, his mother was right; it might not be the best time, but it couldn't be pushed aside any longer, no matter _what_ else was going on in their lives. Brian deserved to know, and whatever came of it, he would have to accept it. After all, he wouldn't be the only one affected by fatherhood.

"Justin?" Brian pressed.

Justin turned long enough to set the coffee cup down on a nearby coaster on the nightstand before he turned back to face Brian. He reached over to take Brian's hand in his and place them both in his lap, glancing down at Brian's wedding band and taking strength from the emblem of their love. Sliding his middle finger over the smooth surface of the jewelry, he took a deep breath and began to confess one of his most earnest wishes to his soulmate. "Mom told me I should talk to you about this," he began softly in preamble. "But at the time I told her it could wait because of everything else going on right now with Fin and the campaign."

Brian's thumb slowly rubbed back and forth on Justin's knuckles as he asked, "What could wait?"

Instead of answering him directly, Justin began, "Yesterday - when Gus ran off and I went to look for him?"

Brian nodded.

"Well, my mom showed up just as Gus came running down the stairs while I was still on the second floor, trying to figure out where he had gone, and he had one of my sketchbooks in his hand. One that I had done some drawings in already. My mom saw them and started asking me about them. That's when she said I needed to talk to you."

"Justin, what kind of drawings were they?" Brian asked quietly, not satisfied to let it go at that.

Justin let out a deep breath between slightly-parted lips before he divulged, "They were ideas I had for remodeling the spare bedroom next to our master suite."

"Justin," Brian urged him a little impatiently. "What kind of ideas?" He had a strong suspicion he knew what his husband was about to say, but he had to be sure.

Justin bit his lower lip nervously as he finally admitted what Brian had suspected he would say all along. "Ideas... For a nursery." He swallowed and licked his lips as he waited for Brian's reaction, his heart pounding anxiously. What would Brian say now that he knew? Would he explode with anger? Deride his dream as some hetero, silly nonsense? Tell him he was out of his fucking mind and to never mention it again?

Brian nodded; yes, he had guessed correctly. "So you _do_ want a child, then." He let out a deep breath as he stared straight ahead toward the main living area of the loft, trying to decide how he felt about that. He couldn't really say he was shocked by Justin's confession or that he was all that surprised. Justin had always been an amazing second father to Gus, and had doted on Jenny Rebecca as a baby. He had lost count of how many times he had arrived at the Munchers' house to pick Justin up from yet another babysitting stint with her, only to be subjected to his partner's incessant, bubbly chatter all the way home about which sort of milestone JR had passed since the last time he had seen her, whether it was rolling over, beginning to crawl, or getting her first tooth. To him it seemed way too mundane, but to Justin it was akin to someone scaling Mount Everest.

Justin continued to nibble his lip nervously as he nodded in confession. "I know we never discussed this before we got married..." he began.

Brian softly huffed out a sort of ironic laugh as he turned his attention back to his husband. "No, it didn't seem to come up between our plans for the wedding and Fin's unexpected guest appearance as my father."

"I know this is coming out of the blue, too," Justin continued, his words tumbling forth now that the subject was out in the open. "I really _was_ going to discuss this with you," he insisted. "You know I never would have gone through with any plans - the remodeling, anything - without you approving them first." He subconsciously grasped Brian's hand so tightly out of anxiety that Brian winced slightly at the pressure.

"Ouch! You have quite a grip there, Sunshine," he murmured as, feeling awkward all of a sudden, Justin immediately moved to release his hand; Brian, however, refused to allow it, opting instead to place his own hand on top of his husband's and give it a slight squeeze of reassurance. "Just not so tight," he clarified as Justin looked at him with trepidation. What exactly was he expecting him to say? He wondered. Good question, because even _he _was wondering the same thing. And why now? With everything else going on, did they need another dilemma that needed to be solved? Hadn't they had enough life-altering events lately? He sighed as he gazed into the uncertain eyes of the man he would give anything to - well, almost anything, anyway.

"Justin..." He began, not even sure what he was going to say.

But his husband placed the fingers of his other hand over his lips and shook his head in dismissal before he could utter another word. "Don't say it," he replied somewhat sadly. "Just forget it; it was a stupid idea, a pipe dream. I shouldn't have brought it up, especially right now." As wonderful as Brian was with his own son, Justin should have realized that Brian did not want to be a full-time father; this wasn't like taking Gus for the weekend or even the summer; this would be a lifetime commitment, 24/7. What had he been thinking? He should be happy enough with the way their life was already, although a part of him still yearned for the next-to-impossible.

"Justin, will you fucking let me speak?" Brian groused as he shrugged off his husband's fingers. "I think I deserve to have a say in this matter; after all, this would impact my life big time, you know?"

Justin huffed as he dropped his free hand to the mattress. "Don't you think I realize that, Brian? I just got through saying that I would never follow through on a decision like this alone. I know you would never want to be tied down that way, so I get it." He gave a sort of ironic snort. "Maybe at least I'll wear you down eventually and we can get a pet."

Brian bristled for some reason at that statement; it seemed to imply that he was incapable of even considering full-time fatherhood. "Oh, so now you're able to read my mind, too?" he asked in irritation as he broke off contact with Justin to cross his arms over his chest. "Well, maybe you don't know me as well as you think you do, _husband."_

Justin lifted his right eyebrow; Brian had never used that sort of 'title' with him before. "What's _that_ supposed to mean?" he asked as he wrung his hands now lying in his lap, silently mourning the warm touch of Brian's hand.

Brian rolled his eyes in exasperation. "If you could stop running your mouth for a minute, maybe you would find out."

Justin pursed his lips tightly together in aggravation; he was trying to give Brian an out and this was his reaction? "Fine, go ahead; I'm all ears," he told him curtly as, eyes flashing, he stared unflinchingly over at his husband.

"You know," Brian began, his voice sounding a bit gruffer than he meant it to be, "I should just tell you what you're expecting to hear because you are being a little shit to me this morning." His voice softened, though, as he saw Justin's eyes widen with the telltale beginnings of hope as he thought about what his husband had already gone through yesterday. The last thing he wanted to do was cause Justin any more pain - or give him false hope. But was it false? Was he going to just dismiss the idea out of hand? He knew that was what Justin was expecting.

He took a deep breath. "But I won't do that," he reassured him softly as once more he unfolded his arms to reach over and grab Justin's hand with his left one. "What I'm trying to say is that I won't say yes and I won't say no - yet. You're right - unless you've already knocked someone up - traditionally speaking or through a cup - this is not a spur-of-the-moment type decision. And it's not going to matter if we decide now or in a few months after the election is over - is it?"

Justin was unable to speak for a few seconds; he was still trying to get past the part where Brian had said _I won't say yes and I won't say no_. That almost sounded... well, maybe not promising, but at least it wasn't a _slap-in-your-face-no-fucking way-no_. "You mean... You would actually consider it?" he whispered in amazement.

Brian shrugged as Justin gaped over at him. "Is it so hard to believe that I wouldn't just turn you down flat?"

"Honestly?" Justin responded with a slight smirk. "Uh, yeah," he replied in a sort of 'duh' tone as Brian harumphed. He sobered as he admitted, "I really never thought you would want to be a full-time father, Brian, and let's face it; that's what it would be if you agreed to do it. So, yeah, I think deep down I never thought you would actually agree to it."

"I haven't," Brian pointed out. "And I still might not." He sighed. "Justin, until I met you I never thought I would do a _lot _of things. I never thought I would fall in love, I never thought I would commit myself to one man, I never dreamed I would ever get married; fuck, even now I have a hard time even saying it out loud! And I never thought I would find a father - a _real_ father - who actually cares about me and is proud of who I am and what I've accomplished instead of wanting to beat the shit out of me. But I have... and it's all thanks to you," he whispered to Justin, who flushed over the tender look he was receiving. "So the least I can do is consider one of your own dreams; but it's not a yes, at least not yet - okay?"

Justin nodded with a smile; it wasn't quite what he wanted, but it was a lot more than he had actually hoped for. "Okay," he agreed, relieved actually that the subject was out in the open. He was glad now that he had brought it up prematurely, because it suddenly felt like some tremendous weight had been lifted from his shoulders. He glanced over at the small, round clock on their nightstand table, noticing it was almost ten; they were due to meet Tony and Fin at their hotel in about an hour. "I guess we'd better get up," he told Brian as he moved to take his hand away from Brian's to stand up.

"Uh, just a minute, Sunshine," Brian murmured as he tugged on Justin's hand and managed to pull his body down far enough so his younger husband was sprawled out fully on the mattress. He flipped his body so he was lying on top of the one he knew so well as he murmured, "First I need to make sure all of your father-producing parts are in good working order just in case I DO decide to say yes." He didn't give Justin time to respond before his lips sought out the well-known mouth and their latest lovemaking dance began.

They would be running a little late before they finally left the loft, not quite prepared to return to the real world outside and the political drama still enfolding them, but knowing they had to nonetheless.

* * *

_Superior Suite Hotel - Downtown Pittsburgh  
_

Fin grimaced as he struggled to undo his shirt. "Damn it!" he groused as Tony walked up behind him and slid his hands around to his chest. "I hate new shirts!"

Tony laughed as he began to deftly unbutton his partner's new, white cotton shirt as if it were the easiest thing in the world. "It's all in the wrist action," he murmured in a deep voice as he nuzzled Fin's neck. "I'm just more manually dexterous than you, that's all."

His shirt unbuttoned in record time, Fin turned in Tony's arms and smirked at him. "You always _were_ good at extricating people out of situations," he murmured huskily.

Tony wound his arms around Fin's neck with a sort of mischievous smile. "That's why I'm such a crack-ass attorney," he stated solemnly, his eyes twinkling.

"I know you're teasing, Counselor," Fin told him softly. "But you ARE the best." He sobered. "I guess we'd better be glad you're not going to represent Justin's asshole of a father, then." He paused as he leaned down to briefly kiss Tony on the lips before he pulled back to lightly stroke Tony's cheek with his fingers. "How did he seem?"

Tony pushed Fin's shirt apart and down his arms to remove it, the crisp fabric fluttering down to the ground before he placed his hands, palm down, on his chest, enjoying as always the smooth, muscled flesh there. "He's acting like it's no big deal," he told his partner about Justin, whom he had spoken to earlier while he and Brian had gotten ready to come to their hotel room for a strategy session regarding the upcoming debate with Whittle. "But I - and I'm sure Brian, too - know better." He slid his hands up to link behind Fin's neck as he stated, "I'm sure what his father did is tearing him up inside; I can't imagine having a father like that." Tony had been blessed with an understanding pair of parents who had been surprised but had accepted his lifestyle when he had confessed to them about his homosexuality at the age of fourteen; for the umpteenth time, he silently thanked them for their support.

Fin nodded, his lips pursed together in scorn over what Craig Taylor had done. It wasn't a direct slap in his son-in-law's face, but it might as well have been. He fumed inside as he growled, "That man didn't deserve a son like Justin, and Justin definitely didn't deserve him. He's well rid of that bastard." He feathered the back of Tony's blond hair as he asked, "What do you think will happen to him now?"

Tony shrugged. "That'll be up to the Feds and the Election Commission. I hope they throw the sorry son of a bitch in jail and fine his ass so much he'll never see the light of day again." He sighed. "Why is it that whenever these pieces of fucking slime do these sorts of things they always wind up hurting innocent people? Justin told me he has a young wife and a baby. Of course he never gave that much thought, though, did he? He was too busy letting his hatred and bigotry get the best of him, and he didn't _care_ who got in his way - or who got hurt." He huffed as he spat out contemptuously, "Fucking piece of shit."

Fin couldn't help grinning at him in amusement. "Well, aren't you the little spitfire today?" he murmured appreciatively. "He'd better hope YOU don't wind up representing the Feds," he said. "Or he'll be in a world of hurt." He leaned down to rest his forehead against his partner's as he whispered, "I wish you were, though; it would be a little poetic justice for Justin." He leaned back to gaze into Tony's eyes tenderly. "You going to stick around? Or do you need to head back to Harrisburg?"

To Fin's relief, Tony shook his head. "Danny's on his way back to Harrisburg with the evidence; he's going to 'anonymously' drop it into a friend of a friend's lap who can take it straight to the authorities. Craig won't get away with what he's done, trust me. And neither will any of the others who were involved, including Turner and those two morons who accepted his bribes. Before everything's all said and done, they'll all get what they deserve. And to answer your question, I've got one of my colleagues covering for me today; I don't have to be back in the office until tomorrow."

Fin nodded as he smiled at his beautiful partner; Tony seemed to get better looking by the month, but he supposed being irretrievably in love might have something to do with that opinion, too. "I'm glad you're going to stick around for a while; I think Justin might need the moral support, and with Brian and me rehearsing for the debate coming up, we won't have a lot of time to commiserate with him." He blew out a breath of regret as he reluctantly let go of his partner to turn and look at himself in the hotel suite's long, narrow mirror mounted across from the bathroom door. He thought he noticed several tired lines on his face that hadn't been there before, and he suddenly felt like some presidential candidate who had gotten his wish to rule the country, only to have his hair slowly turn gray and crow's feet appear as a result of the stress he had to endure. Would he be like that, too, once (and if) he succeeded? It wasn't that he was necessarily vain, but Tony was much younger than him; would he still find him attractive a year from now? Or would some other man more his age come along and sweep his intelligent, successful partner off his feet while he was up to his neck in gubernatorial matters?

"Stop that," he heard Tony chide him as he grasped his shoulder from behind. He leaned in to whisper in his ear, "You're still the sexiest man I've ever known, Fintan O'Connor. And you always will be."

Fin rolled his eyes as he turned to look at him. "How do you do that?"

Tony smiled. "Do what, read your mind? I've had plenty of practice, remember?" he told him as a knock sounded at the door. "Now go let your son and Justin in, and I'll start cranking out the coffee; with THAT midget coffeemaker, we'll need about five go-rounds just to fill up a mugful until I can make a _real _coffee run."

Fin grinned as he scooped up his shirt and hurried over to their bedroom to slip on a soft wool, V-necked, dark-blue pullover sweater as Tony turned to head toward the separate kitchen area of their suite to prepare some coffee; walking over to the hotel room's door, Fin opened it to let Brian and Justin enter, relieved that no one else was out in the hallway. At least outside of Harrisburg, it appeared somewhat easier to have some much-desired privacy; that and the fact that anyone coming up to their suite had to be either buzzed up by the concierge downstairs after phoning them for permission, or had to have an actual hotel key card. Fin had already taken the liberty of informing the hotel personnel that his son and son-in-law were to be given immediate access to their floor once they arrived.

"Brian, Justin," Fin greeted then warmly as his son nodded back at him in acknowledgment; he and Brian were not yet at the 'touchy-feely' phase of their father-son relationship. In fact, he strongly suspected that they never _would_ be. That wasn't his style and it wasn't his son's, either. But he was heartened nonetheless when Brian reached out to clasp his outstretched one, as did Justin; his son's handshake was warm and firm, not one of a disinterested, polite party.

"Come on in; the little housewife's puttering around in the not-so-spacious kitchen, attempting to actually squeeze out some coffee from our so-called 4-cup coffeemaker. As soon as it's done I'll get my jacket and we can be on our way." He and Brian were heading to a nearby, rented recording studio to rehearse his next debate with his opponent; Brian had decided that he would play devil's advocate this time and stand in for Whittle while they engaged in a reenactment of the real event coming up that would take place in front of a live audience this time. With Turner out of the way, Fin was facing a much more formidable opponent, one that might actually give him a run for his money, and Brian thought it was best to be well prepared.

"Housewife?" was the instant, insulted reply from nearby. "Keep that up, Senator, and I'll be mistaking the rat poison under the sink for your coffee creamer." Tony walked into the living room holding a round, black plastic tray with four small, beige coffee mugs; he rolled his eyes at Fin, who grinned back at him impertinently. "Damn thing brews one cup at a time - and a thimbleful, too, I might add. Great coffeemaker for a $200-a-night hotel suite, huh?"

"Nothing but the best in the Pitts," Brian deadpanned as he and Justin sat down on the sofa bed couch. Brian's arm wound around Justin's shoulders as Tony placed the tray down on the table in front of them before taking his own place in one of the two matching, maroon Queen Anne chairs facing the couch, Fin occupying the other one.

Tony glanced over at Justin, silently sizing him up as to his mood. He had talked to him briefly over the phone after he and Fin had returned back to their hotel room, opting not to stay at Britin, but his friend hadn't elaborated much on what had happened last night, other than to tell him he had, indeed, found his father and they had 'had it out,' in his words. Other than adding that he didn't really want to dwell on what had happened anymore, that was pretty much all he knew. But Justin's normal, animated face was devoid at the moment of the spark it normally had, and he suspected there was a lot more to what had happened than Justin had divulged to him.

"Hey, Justin," he greeted his friend softly with a reassuring smile.

"Hi, Tony," was the subdued response as Justin placed his hand down on Brian's knee and reached for a coffee mug to take a sip, almost as if he were avoiding any more conversation.

Tony eyed his friend intently, dying to know more, but a call on his cellphone just then prevented him from questioning Justin further. Flashing the other three men a sort of apologetic look over the intrusion, he flipped his phone open. "Cassinelli."

"Hi, Tony, it's Jason - Jason Benton."

"Jason," Tony greeted the other man as he caught Fin's attention. "How are you?" _Jason Benton_, he mouthed to his partner, who nodded. Fin was quite familiar with the Harrisburg Prosecuting Attorney; he had met him on numerous occasions at the house when Tony had brought him home to discuss cases they had a mutual interest in or to prepare for a case they would be working on together.

Turning back to his son, Fin took a quick, couple sips of his own coffee before placing it down with a grimace; the stuff tasted more like lukewarm, bitter water than coffee. "If you're ready, Brian, why don't we go ahead and go? I'm anxious to get started and this coffee's for shit; let's stop on the way and pick up some _real_ java." Fin knew whenever Tony and Benton engaged in legal conversations, typically they went on forever, and he was anxious to get started with their rehearsal.

Brian nodded as he leaned over to give Justin a brief kiss on the cheek. "We'll be back later," he told him. "Make sure to play nice with the hot shot attorney over there, okay?"

Justin smiled slightly. "I'll do my best," he replied. "Go," he said softly, knowing that Brian was still a little concerned about what had happened to him last night. "I'll be fine. Are you coming back here when you're done, or do you want me to meet you somewhere?"

Brian shook his head. "No, I'm assuming we're taking my father's rental." Fin nodded, knowing they would be more comfortable in his rental car than Brian's somewhat cramped 'Vette. "I'll call you when we're about done, then, to give you a heads up and we'll just meet back here at the room."

As Fin stood up, he leaned over to place his hand on Tony's shoulder and squeeze it in dismissal for a moment as Tony tilted his head up to meet his lips for a brief kiss of their own.

"See you later," Fin said softly, but Tony suddenly grabbed his wrist before he could leave as he heard Benton explain the reason for his call.

"Shit!" he growled into the phone as what Jason was saying sunk in. "What the fuck? Tell me you're joking, Jason!"

Fin frowned at the look of astonishment on his partner's face as Brian and Justin glanced at each other in curiosity; he sat down on the rolled arm of Tony's chair as his partner said into the phone, "Jason, hang on a minute, okay? Do you mind if I put you on speaker? I have Fin, his son Brian, and Brian's husband Justin here; I think they all need to hear what you're telling me." He looked up at Fin, who arched an eyebrow in question; he knew his partner well enough by now to know that something was wrong, very wrong. He felt a twinge in his arm as he recalled what had happened a few days ago after the last debate. When will they ever be able to finally disembark from the roller coaster ride known as his gubernatorial campaign?

Tony pressed a button on his phone and placed it down on the glass coffee table in front of him. "Okay, I have you on speaker," Tony informed him. He took a deep breath before he asked, "Can you repeat for them what you just told me? I'm hoping I imagined what you just said."

Brian instinctively pulled Justin closer to him as an unfamiliar, deep, male voice said over the phone, "I wish I could say you did, but you heard me right, my friend. I got it straight from my contact at the courthouse. Stewart had his arraignment this morning and he was released on a $100,000 bond."

Brian's mouth hung open in shock. "That motherfucking piece of _shit!_" he exploded in anger as he looked over at his father in astonishment. "How can that be? He fucking tried to KILL me - and almost succeeded with you! What in the hell? How can someone accused of attempted murder be released on bail?" He looked then at Justin's face which mirrored his own, only his was also full of worry - worry for _him_. He could see him almost reliving that horrible moment all over again. "Justin..." he murmured reassuringly as he pulled him closer to his side. "How?" he asked again in confusion as he looked over at Tony. Just when he thought they could concentrate solely on the campaign and the platform issues, something always seemed to happen to disrupt it.

"Tony?" Fin asked softly, as Benton remained silent on the other end.

Tony's lips were pursed tightly together in unadulterated dismay. "I'll bet they're going to try him for attempted manslaughter and not attempted murder. And I'd venture a guess that since Stewart has never been accused or convicted of any other crime and apparently is not considered a flight risk with his ties to the state, under the laws of Pennsylvania he is eligible for bail, believe it or not. But how did he come up with that kind of money, Jason?"

"Regina..." Fin murmured as a horrible thought occurred to him; surely after his conversation with her right after the incident, she didn't give her son the funds to get out of jail. She had been just as shocked and upset by the assault as he had been at the time. But she WAS Stewart's mother, and he was well aware that she had been saving her money for a long time while under his employment in hopes of retiring soon and that she had been able to pay off her mortgage a few years ago, so she _could_ have; _would_ she have been his benefactor, though? He simply refused to believe that; no matter how much she loved her son, he knew her loyalty to him was strong as well as her disapproval over what he had tried to do. He soon received an answer to his question as Benton spoke up again.

"His father put up his house for collateral," the prosecuting attorney told them as Brian huffed out an incredulous breath. "And you're absolutely right about why he was eligible, Tony," Benton advised him from the other end of the phone. There was a slight pause before he spoke again. "I'm really sorry, Fin," he told Tony's partner with regret. "I thought you would both want to know right away, though. And Fin, just between you and me, I would definitely beef up your security, or if you don't have a concealed carry permit, I'd work on getting one right away. That guy sounds like a real lunatic."

Justin let out a ragged breath; he couldn't agree more with the man's assessment. His previous worries about both Fin and Brian had just risen dramatically over this unsettling piece of preposterous information. How in the world could someone who had tried to stab his partner wind up being granted bail? It was unimaginable to him. He glanced across the table at Tony, whose eyes were reflecting the same worry for his own partner.

"Tony?" Benton added. "There is one consolation, but I know it's a fairly minor one. Judge Crenshaw _did_ require him to wear an electronic monitor. We both know how ineffective those can be, though, when someone is persistent enough. Like I said, Senator, I would find a way to protect yourself in the way you determine to be best."

"Thanks, Jason," Fin told him quietly, finding himself unnerved by this latest piece of news. For Tony's sake, though, he was trying his best to remain calm and not let his concerns show. As he looked over at the seemingly detached face of his son, he knew Brian was trying to act the same way for Justin's sake, also. Inside, however, he was quite worried, not only because he knew Adam was obviously mentally unstable, but because this latest piece of information was, once more, going to detract from what they should really be focusing on - the campaign and its issues. Perhaps Tony was right - maybe he _shouldn't_ still be running after all this - but he knew he HAD to. He was committed to his state, and he knew - he just knew - that he could actually make a difference. He also knew that Tony would continue to back him in whatever decision he made, even if he was worried as hell about him. His partner's unwavering support of him was one of the reasons why he loved him so fucking much. He reached over to squeeze Tony's shoulder as his partner looked into his face and nodded, a silent understanding passing between them.

He shook his head in relief. "I'm glad it wasn't Regina; I would have been sorely disappointed in her if I had learned she had put up her own house for her son's bail. I know she'd paid that house off a long time ago, and had worked hard to not be in debt any longer. I've never met the father, but from what Regina told me, he's ultra conservative, so I'm not too surprised that he would be backing his son. He probably wants to wipe all of us 'deviants' off the face of the earth, too."

Realizing Benton was still on the phone, Fin spoke up a little louder. "Thanks for the information, Jason, - even if it wasn't something we necessarily wanted to hear. And thanks for the advice - I'll take that under consideration, but I will not run out and get a concealed carry permit just so go walking around with a gun stuffed in my waistband like some fucking vigilante."

"Well, I'm sure you'll figure something out, Fin. Tony, I'll see you again in court soon, my friend. Got to go; I'll catch you later."

"Bye, Jason - and thanks; I owe you one," Tony told him sincerely. Closing his phone, he looked over at Fin. "Well, isn't that a wonderful piece of information," he murmured sarcastically as he wiped his hands nervously on his denim-clad thighs. "But as usual, the justice system is coddling the criminal and ignoring the fucking victims." He started to reach for his coffee mug, only to pull his hand back as he stood up. "I think I could use a drink. Justin, want to join me?"

Justin nodded as he broke off his and Brian's handclasp to stand up; Fin and Brian rose to their feet as well as their partners prepared to leave.

"Brian..."

"Fin..."

Both men addressed their partners simultaneously as father and son stared back at their lovers with the same sort of expression - a sort of look that silently said, _We know what you are about to say and we don't need for you to say it._

"Go," Brian said to his husband as he leaned in to kiss Justin softly on the lips. "We'll be fine. I'll call Don and have extra security placed around us - as much as I hate the fucking idea."

"Well, we hate the alternative even more," Tony piped up as Justin nodded his concurrence.

Fin placed his hands on Tony's upper arms to turn and face him. "Your concerns are duly noted, counselor," he whispered as he attempted to give him a reassuring smile, but he could tell Tony wasn't quite buying it. "I'll be extra careful," he promised. "He _is_ being monitored; they'll know if he tries anything." Tony nodded warily as Fin gave him a quick peck on the lips.

"I'm going to hold you to that," Tony told him, "or I'll fucking _kill_ you." The left side of Fin's mouth quirked up in amusement as he nodded.

"Let's go, Justin," Tony urged his friend, feeling the need to get some air. Justin and Brian exchanged a tender look between them before he nodded and followed his friend out the door, quietly closing it behind them a few moments later.

Fin sighed heavily, wishing once, just once, they could escape all this melodrama. Placing a hand on his son's shoulder, he squeezed it once before saying, "Let's get going ourselves. We can contact Don on the way to the studio."

* * *

Chapter End Notes:

_This was going to be much longer, but I'm still working on the next part and didn't want to wait any longer before updating since it had been a while. I hope you enjoy what I have so far - I will get the other part updated very shortly. Thanks for bearing with me and for reading this story.:) I do appreciate all of your support.:) And thanks to boriqua522 for being my beta for this story, also.:)  
_


	30. New Challenges, New Twists

_Brian and his father begin to prepare for the next debate; Justin and Tony have a heart-to-heart talk about their men. Brian has to contend with some issues regarding his 'charity case,' and some enemies reappear as well as disappear._

* * *

_Thirty Minutes Later - Café Java_

Despite Tony's previous intention to temporarily drink his concerns away, the two men had settled on finding a decent coffee shop near the hotel instead of a bar, deciding it was a little too early for that; besides, both men knew that drinking themselves into oblivion would only be a temporary solution. Tony watched as Justin absentmindedly swirled his creamer around in his coffee mug; his friend was uncharacteristically quiet at the moment, but he supposed he really couldn't blame him. In light of what they had just learned, he wasn't feeling especially talkative at the moment, either.

"Tony?"

He looked up, a little startled by the break in the silence as he eyed Justin from across the small, round table they were currently sharing by an expansive, plate-glass window; unlike Fin, who seemed to attract a crowd no matter where he went lately, he and Justin were still able to walk around in relative obscurity so far, despite their partners' notoriety. He knew it might not remain that way the farther they progressed into the campaign, but for now he was eternally grateful for that fact, and he was sure Justin was as well.

"Yeah?" he responded softly as he took a sip of his caramel latte.

"Have you and Fin ever discussed having kids?"

Tony furrowed his brow in surprise; that wasn't what he had been expecting Justin to say. He had to laugh softly in irony, however, as he thought about it. "You mean other than the surprise you dropped on us about Fin already having a grown-up 'kid'?" Justin grinned wryly as he shook his head. "No... Are you kidding? We're talking about Fin here, remember? It's near impossible to get him to discuss marriage, let alone having children of our own; and call me old-fashioned, but I believe the cart should come before the horse. I couldn't give a fuck whether two parties of the same sex bring up a kid or if it's the traditional mother and father arrangement, but I DO have this somewhat archaic notion that the parties should be married first or at least have some sort of civil union."

Justin lifted an eyebrow in surprise. "Really? That _does _surprise me a little," he admitted. "Why?"

Tony shrugged. "I guess for legal purposes more than anything. As an attorney, I've seen far too many problems if the pair aren't married, especially when gay couples are involved. Kids have enough problems and pressures nowadays growing up without encountering issues over receiving proper medical treatment, accessing school records, or being caught in the middle of logistical custody nightmares that ensue if their parents break up and they can't agree on who gets the kids. It's bad enough when there are traditional couples involved; the entanglements are increased two-fold, though, when there are unmarried gay parents trying to sort everything out, trust me." He eyed his friend thoughtfully. "Why are you asking me, Justin?"

Justin glanced down and played with the swizzle stick in his coffee for a few seconds before he lifted his gaze to peer over at Tony. "I... I do."

Tony shook his head. "You do what? Want kids?"

Justin nodded.

Tony nodded back at him; he could certainly see Justin as a father, as a _good_ father, despite the type of horrid role model he had been stuck with. Unlike Craig Taylor, Justin was kind, nurturing, supportive, full of life, and sensitive, as well as courageous and level-headed, not to mention he possessed amazing artistic talent. He would make an excellent father, he decided. "Does Brian know?" he asked as he curled his hand around the paper cup.

Justin nodded. "Yeah... I told him this morning."

Tony's eyes widened as he stared over at his friend, their previous worries about their partners' safety temporarily forgotten. "How did he react?"

Justin replied, "Well, surprisingly not like I thought he would. He didn't agree to it, but he didn't turn me down flat, either, which was what I figured he would do."

"Well, that's something at least," Tony murmured, unable to keep the wistfulness out of his voice. If only he HAD that opportunity to even be rebuffed...

Justin gazed into his friend's eyes as he read between the lines. "You really don't think Fin would ever agree to get married? You know he loves you."

"Yeah, I know," Tony conceded. He sighed. "Hell, I don't know, Justin. Sometimes I almost feel like I blackmailed him into staying with me when I threatened to leave him unless he came clean about our relationship. So even if he _did_ one day ask me to marry him, how could I be sure he was doing it for the right reasons?"

To Tony's surprise, Justin laughed softly; the first real laugh he had heard out of him in quite some time. "What's so funny?" he asked almost in irritation; it seemed like an odd time to find something humorous.

"Oh, my God," Justin replied as he shook his head as he hastened to explain. "You don't know how familiar that sounds."

Tony frowned. "What are you talking about? Brian DID marry _you_."

Justin smiled. "Yes, and it was the best day of my life." For a moment he allowed himself to go back a little in time to remember that wonderful day - the ups, the downs, the chaos; he wouldn't have changed a thing about that day. It had been perfect. "But it wasn't the first wedding we had planned."

Tony's caramel latte was promptly forgotten as he asked, "It wasn't?"

Justin shook his head. "No, Brian asked me to marry him before." He paused. "And I turned him down."

"No way!"

Justin grinned. "Yeah, the boy who fell in love with the gorgeous older man and who waited years to hear those three little words that every gay twink wants to hear turned his marriage proposal down flat."

"Holy shit. Why would you _do_ that?"

Justin replied softly, "For the same exact reason you're talking about. The first time Brian proposed to me, I wasn't sure it was for the right motive. I thought he was doing it out of guilt - or maybe fear, not because he really wanted to get married."

Tony stared into his friend's eyes, unable to comprehend how that could ever be true in his and Brian's case. It was obvious that Brian worshipped the ground that Justin walked on.

"I don't understand. What would he have felt guilty about - or been afraid of?"

"Brian's first proposal came right after the Babylon bombing."

"Ahh." Justin had told Tony all about the events of that night; how Brian's best friend, Michael, had almost been killed and how he had been slightly injured. "I didn't know he had proposed to you back then."

Justin nodded. "Twice, actually."

Tony blinked. "Twice? And you turned him down both times?"

Justin shook his head with a smile. "No... Yes... _Shit_!" He sighed. "It's complicated." He let out an exasperated breath as Tony grinned back at him over his response.

"Why doesn't that surprise me?" he commented dryly. "After all he _is_ Fin's son. Care to elaborate on that confusing statement?"

Justin quirked one side of his mouth up wryly. "The first time he asked me I believed he was merely going through the motions because he either felt guilty about not being there when the bombing happened - he was on his way to Australia for Mardi Gras," he explained as Tony cocked an eyebrow upward, "or he was frightened into it after he felt like he almost lost Michael and I got injured. Either way, I didn't think he was being sincere and I told him thanks, but no thanks."

"Even though inside you were kicking yourself over it."

Justin shrugged. "Maybe," he conceded. "In a way." His voice softened as he admitted, "I think I fell in love with him the first moment I saw him. Of course, at the time I was an inexperienced 17-year-old who had just met a man who looked like some Greek god. I mean, who wouldn't have been incredibly flattered by being picked up by someone like Brian? But as time went on, I changed; I matured. I finally came to an understanding about what I wanted, what sort of partner I wanted. And for the longest time, Brian and I were traveling down different paths. We were actually broken up for all intents and purposes when the bombing occurred, although we had remained friends." He huffed softly. "I mean... As if someone like Brian and I could only remain _friends_. I knew I was only kidding myself there. Brian and I could have never been merely 'friends.'" He paused for a moment, trying to figure out how to explain their relationship. "It's... It's like when we're together, there's this electricity, this invisible filament connecting us. With the two of us, it's all or nothing. Either we are together in every sense of the word - or we are apart; there IS no middle ground."

Tony eyed him intently before he nodded. "I know that feeling well." When he had threatened to leave Fin, he knew there would be no way he could chance running into him at the state capitol; he would have had to transfer somewhere out of town. Seeing him on a frequent basis - and he knew in both their professions it was inevitable - would have been much too painful to bear.

Justin nodded back at him. "There's always been the physical side," he added, blushing. Just the mere thought of how Brian looks at him still today makes him feel like there's a fire burning deep inside him that only he can extinguish. "But there's more to it than just the physical part and the passion, though," he insisted as Tony looked over at him. "We complement each other. Brian's the more careful one, I'm the more impetuous one. He's more business minded, I'm more creative. But that's what so wonderful about our relationship. Sometimes it's like we share two sides of the same brain, that we know what each one if thinking before they say it." Justin rolled his eyes as Tony looked at him in amusement. "You know what I mean," he mumbled a little self-consciously.

Tony smiled wistfully as he stirred his coffee with his spoon. "Yeah, I do. I feel the same way that you do whenever I look at Fin. Even after ten years, my feelings haven't changed; no, that's not exactly true," he quickly corrected himself. "They've grown deeper." He eyed Justin intently, realizing that perhaps his new friend would be the only one who would understand what he was about to say. "But I would have still followed through on what I had threatened to do. If Fin hadn't come clean about our relationship, I would have walked out even though it would have fucking killed me to do it. And Fin wouldn't have expected any less from me."

Justin nodded, completely understanding. Each day that went by merely verified just how much father and son were alike. It was nice to have someone who actually understood what made someone like Brian tick.

"So... What about the _second _time?" Tony pressed him curiously. "You said you turned him down twice; well, sort of anyway, before you lost me."

Justin grinned. "Yeah, that was kind of a confusing statement." His face grew serious, almost dreamy as he remembered Brian's second proposal at Britin, the estate they now called their home. He blinked as he looked over at Tony who was staring at him expectantly. "Not too long after he tried the first time, he came over unexpectedly one day at my shithole of an apartment - and trust me, I'm being kind with my description," he said as Tony laughed softly. "He told me there was something he had to show me, and he wouldn't take no for an answer. I figured it was yet another one of his business deals he was going to impress me with - he seemed to be on a buying binge at the time because Ted - remember him from the wedding, Brian's accountant and our friend?" he asked as Tony nodded. "Ted had just gotten through informing him how much profit he had made with Kinnetik and how he needed to find some tax shelters, so I figured he was just going to show me his latest 'toy.' Well, his latest toy wound up being Britin. He drove me there and when I got out of the car, I asked him who owned this big, fucking mansion he was showing me. When he told me 'we do,' I about shit my pants. I didn't even want to think about how much it cost. And then when we went inside and he told me he had put his loft up for sale, as well as Babylon, it was then that I knew that he was serious this time." For a moment, he allowed himself to go back in time; when they had made love in front of a roaring fireplace that had been one of the most damn romantic days of his life. He wouldn't tell Tony the whole story of Brian's proposal - how he had called him 'my prince' and how he had told him he was buying Britin because he was 'taking a chance on love.' Some intimate details of that night would forever just between him and his husband.

Tony's mouth hung open. "But you said you turned him down - _again_."

"Well, yes and no." Justin hastened to explain as Tony gave him a long-suffering sort of look. "I initially said yes," he told him. "But not too long afterward, we both decided that I needed to go to New York to pursue my art career and we both realized that it wasn't the right time to get married." He let out a deep breath. "That time apart was the most difficult time of my fucking life. I missed him so much. And I know he felt the same way, too."

Tony nodded. "How long were you apart? Surely you saw each other during that time. I mean, after all, you did get married eventually."

"About a year," he told him. He smiled. "And yes, we both racked up a lot of frequent flier miles during that time. But I was so glad to come home. Even if I _hadn't_ been able to achieve the limited success that I had, I was ready to return. It was time to come home. Art will always be my passion, my outlet for expression. But Pittsburgh will always be my home - and Brian will always be my touchstone, my anchor."

Tony nodded, knowing exactly how he felt. "And now it looks like you'll be adding to your family." He didn't want to tell Justin just how fucking envious he was that his friend was not only married to his soulmate, but also quite possibly going to add a baby to the mix.

"Don't get too optimistic," he heard Justin warn him in caution. "He didn't say no, but he didn't say yes, either." He let out a breath. "Enough of my marriage merry-go-round," he remarked, as he nodded his head over toward Tony's coffee. "Better drink up before it gets any colder."

Tony nodded as he raised his paper cup and reached over to clink it soundlessly against Justin's.

Justin looked over at him bemused. "What was that for?"

"Call it a toast - a salute, for us putting up with two very dominant, stubborn, but glorious men." He sobered as he added more softly, "And call it a silent plea for their safety."

Justin nodded; a lump of cold fear arising in his throat as he slowly raised his cup and chinked it against Tony's. "I'll drink to that," he whispered as he raised it to his lips to take a sip.

* * *

_Across Town  
_

Fin brushed some now-sweaty hair back from his brow as he stared over at his son with renewed respect. "You don't hold back, do you?" he commented wryly from his place on a wooden stool, feeling the material of his shirt sticking to his skin under the hot glare of the spotlights above. His son had just spend the good part of the past hour grilling him on complex economic issues, his views on foreign policy, his opinion on energy resources, including the controversial method of using fracking to extract shale underground, and even his 'aberrant' lifestyle and how the focus that had been placed on it might interfere with his ability to do his job. He couldn't recall when he had been subjected to such scrutiny, and he now found himself sweating profusely as a result.

"Would you expect any less?" Brian asked as Fin shook his head mutely with a slight smile. "This debate isn't going to take place between you and that imbecile Turner, Fin; Whittle could be a viable, legitimate threat to your campaign for Governor."

"That almost sounds like you think I'm going to lose," Fin couldn't help saying with just a bit of indignation; perhaps his mood was due more in part to the stress of the campaign, his still-achy arm where he had been injured, or all the other melodrama that had constantly been playing out for the past few months, but he couldn't help wondering if his own son was faltering in his confidence in him. He quickly discovered that he didn't have anything to worry about, though, when it came to that uncertainty.

"No, of course not," Brian retorted curtly, almost insulted by the insinuation. "You are by far the best candidate and the most qualified. All I'm saying is that the only person who can lose this campaign is YOU if you are not prepared for the questions that Whittle or the moderator may throw at you. It won't do you any fucking good, Fin, if I go easy on you, and I'm sure that's not what you would expect from me, either."

Fin smiled back at him wryly. "No, I wouldn't," he concurred. He let out a heavy breath. "I doubt, though, that Whittle will bring out the issue of my homosexuality; he doesn't give a rat's ass WHAT my orientation is."

"Agreed," Brian replied. "But don't forget; the audience will have a chance to contribute questions as well. You don't think it's possible the Republicans won't plant someone in the audience with a question like that? I'm not sure, by the way, that it was such a smart idea to agree to spontaneous questions; I still say they should have been screened first to weed out the wackos."

Fin slid off his stool and stretched his arms upward to try and relieve some of the kinks in his back; dropping his hands down by his sides, he faced his son who was perched on an opposite stool a few feet away, approximately where his opponent would be sitting at the convention center hall in Harrisburg in a few days. "I considered that," he reminded his son. "But I've lived a lie too long about my lifestyle already; I'm not ashamed of it, and I'm certainly not ashamed of Tony. If some right-wing do-gooder wants to call me out yet again on my 'disgusting lifestyle' like Turner and your old buddies did, then let them. I'm not backing down, and I intend to meet their objections head on. Let _them_ come across as the hate-spewing assholes that they are; that will only help my campaign, not hurt it. Besides, you know by now that I always function better under pressure and without a script. I enjoy answering on the fly."

Brian peered over at his father; that sounded so much like him it was almost spooky. It wasn't that he didn't like to be prepared and informed with prior research before a meeting, but rehearsing from some preordained script wasn't his style, either. "First of all, Telson and Thomas are not, nor have they ever been, my _buddies_," he told Fin. "And secondly, yeah, I agree. The last thing we want is for you to come across as stilted or stiff. Your ability to speak off the cuff is one of your definite strong points."

"Why, thank you, Mr. Campaign Manager, I'll take that as a compliment," Fin responded, eliciting a slight smile from his son. He sighed. "Okay, I'm ready for Round 2; give me what you've got - I can take it."

Brian nodded as he peered down at his extensive list of notes and scoured them quickly for the next question. They may not be able to control who is selected to ask questions from the audience, but he could still do his job as both Fin's campaign manager and his son and see that he is well prepared for whatever is thrown at them. Flashing his father a rather evil grin, he said, "Very well, Senator. What are your views on the decreased funding that is being afforded Pennsylvania's school system? How can we expect to compete globally or even nationally without adequate funds for training?" He arched one eyebrow in challenge at his father as Fin shook his head in amazement at his son's thoroughness before he began to answer the question.

* * *

_One Hour Later..._

Fin placed his hand on Brian's shoulder and gave it a squeeze. "I'm glad YOU'RE not my opponent, Brian," he told him with a smile. "I feel like I've just been through a battlefield."

Brian grinned. "Good. Because that's what it will feel like by the time you're done." He sobered somewhat as they began to walk toward the exit; his father had spoken with Don Meyers earlier, who had informed Fin that he now had security in place surrounding him at all times. The two security guards newly assigned to him from a local Pittsburgh agency were supposed to be waiting for them directly outside the entrance, and they had been instructed not to go anywhere unless they were, indeed, stationed where they were supposed to be. He didn't like the lack of privacy and mobility - neither did his father - but it was a sad reality, at least during the remainder of the campaign. Once Fin was elected, he would have to get used to the intrusion anyway. He personally couldn't wait until the campaign was over, however, so he could go back to a relative degree of obscurity and get out of the limelight.

Brian reached inside his jeans pocket as he heard his cell ringing, figuring it must be Justin checking up on their progress. To his surprise, however, it was a number he didn't recognize from the Harrisburg area. "Kinney."

A weary-sounding male voice on the other end stated, "Mr. Kinney? This is Adam Coltrane; I'm one of the hotel managers from the High Seasons Hotel in Harrisburg - where your 'guest' was staying?"

"_Was_ staying?" Brian responded, immediately picking up on the manager's use of the past tense of the word as his father eyed him silently from nearby. "What do you mean - _was _staying? I had given you my credit card information for the kid to stay there for a couple more days; there was more than enough of a balance to cover the charges."

"Yes," the hotel manager agreed. "For the room and the incidentals, anyway. But it seems your 'guest' decided to go on a rampage for some reason last night and trashed the room, causing some major damage as a result. The maid discovered what he had done this morning when she went to clean the room and reported it to management. When we tracked down the kid at breakfast in the hotel restaurant and informed him that we were going to be calling the police in to make a report about the damage, the kid took off on us."

"What the fuck?" Brian growled in disbelief. "He trashed the room? How?" He couldn't believe it; he had gone out of his way for that kid, and this was how he repaid him?

"Well, the coffeemaker was broken and lying on the floor, the window drapes had been torn down and the rod damaged, and there was an iron burn on the bedspread. And all the towels were gone and the bedspread was missing."

Brian pinched his nose with his thumb and forefinger in disbelief. "How much?" he asked brusquely.

"Well, we're still trying to assess the damage..."

"Surely you have _some_ idea."

Coltrane replied, "Well, I'd say we're probably looking in the $1,000 range for everything."

"Fuck," Brian muttered as Fin lifted an eyebrow in question at his son's expression and tone of voice. "I'm going to kill that kid. You don't have any idea where he went?"

"You mean you don't know?" the other man asked in surprise. "I thought he was a relative of yours."

Brian sighed heavily. "No. It's a long story. Just charge my card for what the damages are and I'll handle it, okay?"

"Yes, Sir," Coltrane advised him. "You want us to mail you a receipt at the address we have on record?"

"Yeah," Brian agreed, fuming silently. "Oh, what was the little shit wearing the last time you saw him?" He suddenly realized pajamas might not be the only clothing the kid had obtained.

Sure enough, Coltrane told him, "He had on a gray hoodie, dark blue jeans, and a black, pullover shirt. Oh, and some Nike tennis shoes - looked like they were new."

"Yeah, I'm sure they were," Brian said dryly; just as he thought. _Little_ _fucker_. He had an idea the charges would be astronomical once he received them. And he had every intention of taking every dollar out of the kid's hide. He peered over at Fin, who frowned in puzzlement. "Thanks for the info," he told the other man before flipping his phone shut in a huff.

"What's going on, Brian?" Fin asked; from what he could garner from Brian's side of the conversation, apparently the call didn't have anything to do with the campaign, at least he hoped not. "That wasn't one of my campaign..."

"No," Brian cut him off rather curtly, still highly peeved at what the kid had done. He shook his head in disgust. "Let's go; I'll tell you on the way back to your hotel room. Shit."

Fin eyed his son curiously, but nodded nonetheless as the two of them headed toward the exit. True to his word, the men Don had promised for security were standing right outside the door. Introductions made and identification produced, Fin and Brian left shortly afterward in the rental vehicle, closely followed by the other two men in a separate sedan located directly behind them.

* * *

_Same Time - Across Town_

Craig fumbled with the key to his condo, the effects of way too many shots of alcohol hindering his dexterity. Ever since his son had left him last night, and he had watched him cavorting with his so-called husband out on the street for all the world to see, a bottle of whiskey had been his best friend. He had spent all night trying to hack into his own computer system, only to be told time and time again he was not 'authorized.' Even his idiot attorney couldn't tell him what the problem was. As he finally succeeded in unlocking the door and entering his residence, he peered around the living room anxiously. "Lori? Where are you?"

There was no sound that he would typically hear at this time of day: no television or radio playing, no baby crying, no microwave, no dishwasher, nothing. Nothing but silence, which never happened with a newborn around. "Lori? What's going on?" he called out in irritation as he stumbled around the living room, almost tripping on his own feet. "Answer me, damn it!" He sighed heavily when he still received no response. Where in the fuck was she? He had just had a for-shit night and this was the last thing he needed. Couldn't she at least have dinner ready for him? She knew what time he normally came home.

He rubbed his face with the palm of his hand, his eyes feeling like there were pinpricks of splinters in them from being up all night as he glanced around the room, his bloodshot gaze eventually landing on a plain, white envelope propped up against his favorite crystal liquor decanter perched atop the pass-through space between the living room and the kitchen. A feeling of dread washed over him as he labored over to the envelope and picked it up, immediately recognizing the handwriting that had been used to write his first name on the front.

With slightly shaky hands he turned it over and ran his fingernail under the flap to open it; placing the envelope down on the counter, he unfolded the plain, white piece of paper and began to read the neatly-typed message contained within:

_Craig, _was the terse beginning. _Don't bother trying to track me and the baby down; you won't find us. I can't believe what you did to me and our child. How could you lie to me all this time? I can't live any longer with someone who constantly lies or spews such hatred. I'm filing for divorce; you can expect to hear from my lawyer soon. Laurie_

"Fuck!" Craig roared as he crumpled up the piece of paper tightly in his fist and squeezed it so hard his hand turned white. "You can't take my daughter and walk away from me just like that!" he yelled. His face turned red with hatred and anger as he huffed out a furious breath. "This is all your fault, Kinney!" he shouted. "You and your freak of a father! You ruined my son and now you've destroyed my fucking marriage! I won't let you get away with this, do you hear me? Do you?" His red face contorted in anger, he picked up the first object he could find - an ivory-colored picture frame containing a wedding-day photo of him and his wife at the local church where they had been married - and flung it violently across the room, the shards of glass and ceramic scattering on the gleaming hardwood floor as he sunk down onto the couch, the wadded-up note falling out of his outstretched palm. Placing his elbows on his knees, he cradled his head in his hands as he closed his eyes in misery.

* * *

An hour and four more drinks later, he had given up on trying to find his wife by phone; she had been true to her word about disappearing from him. He had gone down the line of all her friends, calling them or texting them to find out if they had heard from her today, but everyone insisted they hadn't. And she apparently hadn't contacted her parents, either - supposedly, anyway, although he found that very hard to swallow; his wife had always been quite close to her parents and normally spoke to at least one of them daily, so their insistence that she hadn't contacted them today was hard to believe. It was probably more a case that they weren't going to tell him anything, and would protect both her and the baby at all costs. When he had spoken to them a few minutes ago, though, he hadn't brought up why he was looking for her and the baby; if she HADN'T run home to them and told them every salacious detail, he wasn't about to tell them what had happened and embarrass himself to death. It had been bad enough when Jen had decided to defend their queer son and had divorced him before; he wasn't about to let everyone know that he had yet again failed as a husband.

Besides, it certainly wasn't HIS fault - it was Kinney and his fag father's. Everything originated with them; every misfortune he'd had, every heartbreak he had endured, every downturn in his fortune and even the loss of his son. When he had come out in support of Proposition 14, the additional business he had been so certain he would be enjoying from the public had, instead, resulted in him receiving hate mail for being so 'bigoted' that he would have his own son arrested. He had even been the object of derision and scorn in the local paper; the significant drop in his sales at the store afterward had been the beginning of his addiction to gambling and his downward spiral toward financial ruin. Only his innate ability to anticipate electronic trends ahead of his other competitors had saved him from bankruptcy; now, however, the riches he had been able to accumulate secretly unbeknownst to his wife and his business associates were coming back to haunt him. It had made him feel heady with power and greed at the time, but had it been worth having all that money if he didn't have his wife here by his side and worse, his baby girl? He loved that child more than life itself. But again, thanks to Kinney and his father he was now facing a life that was barren and cold.

When he had spoken to his attorney last night, the bastard had actually had the gall to suggest he turn himself into the authorities and admit what he had done; it was obvious that someone knew anyway in addition to Justin, because he realized now that somebody had managed to hack into his account or freeze it so it didn't have any access to his money; money that he had earned, damn it! But he was NOT going to just quietly slink off into the night like some wimpy, scared little puppy dog. He had worked hard for that money, and he could fucking well do what he pleased with it, election laws be damned. That is, if he could even get access to it now...

"Shit," he muttered in disgust. Rubbing his face in frustration with the sleeve of his sweaty shirt, he downed the last gulp of his whiskey before dropping the stocky glass unheeded onto the floor from his dangling hand; his previous anger was slowly transforming into a steadily-burning hatred as his eyes glanced down at the day's mail lying on the end table near him at the side of the couch. "How considerate of you to bring in the mail before you dumped me, Laurie," he snarled in contempt as he reached over to pick it up; a brightly-colored, slick, oversized postcard lying on top caught his eye as he instantly recognized the handsome, confident-looking man peering back at him from the front. "Well, well, well," he replied softly as he read the accompanying information and a smile slowly spread across his lips. "This day is starting to look up." He quickly read over the information for Fintan O'Connor's next debate with Dean Whittle.

"Perfect," he said aloud softly. "Yeah - I'll _ignite the change,_ all right, you bastard. If you can humiliate ME, the least I can do is return the favor." His smile grew wider as he ran one calloused finger across the man's face. "Yeah... That should do nicely." Placing the card down next to him, he pushed himself up off the couch and turned to walk toward the bedroom to take a shower. It was time to put some plans into motion.

* * *

_Same Time - Wilkes-Barre - Turner Logistics Headquarters - 4:00 p.m._

"Is he still holed up in there?"

Barbara Peters, Turner's executive assistant, sighed. "Yeah - he was here when I got here and he's STILL in there. He didn't even go out for lunch; he just buzzed me and asked me to run out for a deli sandwich for him. I can't imagine what he's doing in there; he doesn't even look like he has the lights on." The 50ish, gray and brunette-haired, bespectacled woman shrugged. Ever since her boss had been forced to withdraw from the gubernatorial campaign, he had practically walled himself up inside his father's former office, only coming out after everyone had left and not even seeing either his most-trusted, long-time employees or his biggest business clients. It was as if his previous, ebullient and gregarious spirit had been broken. No longer was his booming voice heard throughout the building as he made the rounds of visiting employees each morning like he used to do; now he just stayed squirreled away in his office, shunning all contact with others.

Barbara had NO idea what he was doing all day long, every day; she had worked for Turner for over twenty years now and thought she knew him well. His inexplicable, shady behavior while he had been running for governor, however, absolutely stunned her. Turner had always seemed like such a straight-laced, congenial, and ethical man; to know now that he had resorted to both paying bribes as well as enlisting the help of two unsavory men to try and malign the other candidate during his campaign run, simply to try and get ahead in the race, was unfathomable to her. Her previous respect and high esteem she had held for her boss had made a distinct nose dive the day she had discovered what he had done, but she was too close to retiring now to quit her job. And a small piece of her still hoped that Turner had merely been a pawn manipulated by a power-thirsty contingent bent on seeing that someone they viewed as unseemly and unworthy did not come out victorious as governor.

The man who had addressed her - a tall, thin, blond-haired man in his 40's by the name of Josh Simpson, who was Turner's chief accountant and one of his other long-term employees - nodded sadly. "I really need to go over the quarterly financial statements with him soon; they're due to be turned in to the Feds by the end of the month. I tried to call him on his cellphone when I didn't get him to answer his extension, but it went right to voicemail." He sighed, knowing he could confide in this woman who had been with Turner for such a long time. "Between you and me, though, after what he's done I don't know WHAT the hell is going on; I have no way of knowing now how reliable these figures are without him telling me. And even if he DOES talk to me, how can I know these are legitimate?"

Barbara's eyes widened, her face a mask of concern. "You don't think he's been dipping into our pension fund or 401K, do you?" She had a lot to lose if he was; those accounts were the difference between her being able to live comfortably or continuously living month-to-month in the future.

Simpson shrugged. "Who the hell knows? I hope not, but I can't guarantee it, Barbara. The man needs to come clean to me and everyone else, for that matter; it's about to blow up in his face anyway as it is. It's just a matter of time before the Election Commission finishes their investigation. They've already issued a subpoena to have his financial records turned over to them. Better for him to let me know what's going on before they look at them under a microscope, then to face their scrutiny unprepared; but it won't be long now either way."

She shook her head sadly; what a mess. "Well, he left specific instructions NOT to be bothered; no one is to enter his office today, just like he's instructed for the past several days. He has the door locked, and won't answer it for anyone, not even me." She snorted softly. "I had to rap three times on the door like Tony Danza and return to my desk before he would even open it to retrieve his lunch."

Simpson sighed; this was certainly no way to run a business. "Fuck," he murmured, pulling no punches as he advised tersely, "He's going to run his business right into the ground is what he's _going_ to do, if he doesn't get his head out of his ass and get back on track soon." He rubbed his hand restlessly through his hair before he finally asked her, "Will you at least try and slide this envelope under his door if I put a note on it for him to call me? Maybe he'll come to his senses and contact me then. Otherwise, we may all be looking for another job soon."

She nodded as he hurriedly reached for a post-it note and scribbled a quick note to their boss before he handed it to her and walked away.

Barbara walked over and, stooping down, quietly slid the thick, brown envelope underneath Turner's double doors leading into his office; the blinds which were normally open across the two large panes of glass were now closed tightly against any scrutiny, almost as if Turner thought he could just hide away in his office and the troubles he was now facing would magically disappear. _If only it were that easy_, she thought as she stood back up and stared at the doors, not hearing anything inside. What could the man be doing in there? And how did they ever get to this point? Things had been going so well for the company - before her boss got visions of grandeur in his head and decided to undertake something that was definitely out of his expertise. Now it seemed that all of them were going to pay for his lack of foresight. Sighing, she turned around and headed back toward her desk, deciding to take a short break to visit the restroom and grab a bottle of water out of the employees' break room nearby.

As she turned the corner, she didn't notice the younger, slender man quietly opening the main entrance door and walking up to her desk; as he looked around, his eyes fell on the massive double doors leading to the inner sanctum of the owner of Turner Logistics, the man's name etched in frosted white script letters across the top to clearly identify its significance. Glancing furtively right and left to make sure no one was watching, he walked slowly but determinedly over to the doors, testing first one and then the other to see if they would open. Frowning in frustration and anger when he discovered that they were both locked, he reached inside his pants pocket and retrieved a pick lock, an object he had procured oddly enough from a local hardware chain. Using the practicing skills he had developed at home on his own doors, he pulled the instrument out and, again making sure no one was around to observe him, pushed the thin, metal piece into the keyhole and began to jiggle it inside, first one way and then the other, all the while turning the metal door knob and hoping he would strike the right combination of moves to get the knob to turn.

Finally after several seconds he felt the knob give easily in his hand, and, placing the lock pick back into his pocket for safekeeping, he slowly turned the knob and pulled it toward him to open the door. Quietly slipping inside a few seconds later seemingly undetected, he noticed all the blinds had been drawn and the lights were off; only the bright sunlight streaming in through the cracks between the heavy drapes allowed enough light for him to make out the top of a man's gray-haired head sitting in a large, leather office chair behind a massive, heavy, oak desk near the window.

Stewart crept closer, wanting to evoke the element of surprise toward a man that he placed a great deal of blame upon for his current predicament. Walking closer and gathering his courage, he cleared his throat nervously before he spoke. "Turner, I want to talk to you." But there was no movement, nor any response from the other man; it was as if he were deaf to his demand.

Growing angrier by the second - and knowing how much he had jeopardized by cutting off his electronic ankle bracelet to confront this other man - he spoke up louder this time. "Did you hear me, you piece of shit? I want to talk to you, you asshole! You're the reason why I'm in all this trouble, and I'm not going down without letting you know just what I think of you!" Again, there was no response; no voice spoken in reply, no creak of the chair being turned to face him, no puff of cigar smoke slowing rising into the air, even though he could smell the distinctive aroma of an expensive cigar somewhere.

Deciding he had had enough of this man's insolence, Stewart let out a furious huff as he stomped over and placed his left hand on the top of the leather chair. "You're going to listen to me, you fucker!" he yelled as he whirled the chair around to face him. One look at Turner, however, and Adam Stewart knew there would be no discussion with him. His face turned white as he noticed the gun still clutched in the man's hand and the blood now congealing on Turner's forehead; a partial stub of a cigar still burned in the cherry wood ashtray nearby on the desk, never to be enjoyed again.

Stewart backed away in horror, his eyes wide with fright as he quickly turned around and hurried to the door, just slipping out before Barbara returned with her drink.

* * *

_A/N: Thanks for reading this second part. For those who have been asking about "Parent Trap," I'm updating it now! I hope to have the next installment posted very soon. Hope you'll bear with me - the start of school has really cut into my writing time - aaargh! But rest assured I AM working on it and "Stallion," and they WILL all be completed! Thanks for all the support.:) And thanks as always to my beta, boriqua522; you're very special to me.:)  
_


	31. Combating Hatred With a Four-Letter Word

_In this chapter: __Fin prepares for his next debate with Whittle; Justin has to confront his demons again._ _Brian encounters Alex and takes matters into his own hands._  


* * *

_One Hour Later...Pittsburgh_

"Hey."

"Hey, yourself," Brian responded, his voice sounding a little strained; he was trying his best to appear nonchalant, but it was hard after what he had just heard. "You still with Tony?"

"Yeah; we just walked around for a while after we stopped and got some coffee; you heading back with Fin?"

Brian glanced over at his father, who was still on the phone talking to one of his campaign staff. The two locked eyes as Brian replied, "Yeah, we should be back at the hotel in a few minutes; why don't the two of you head back over there and meet us?"

Brian could hear the enthusiasm and hopefulness in his husband's voice as Justin replied, "Actually... Tony and I found this really cool-looking Italian restaurant about a block from the hotel, and we thought that..."

"No, Justin," Brian said just a bit more sharply than he had intended. "We'll order some room service at the hotel, okay? Fin and I are bushed. Just come on back - and take a cab while you're at it, too."

Justin walked over to a brick storefront along the busy, downtown street and leaned up against it as he frowned. He glanced over at Tony as he quietly demanded, "Brian, what's going on? Has something happened?"

There was a brief hesitation on the other end, just enough to cause Justin to worry even more as Brian finally replied, "No, everything's fine. Just do as I say and we'll talk when you get back."

"Brian..."

"Justin, _please_. Just do as I say this one time."

Justin glanced over at Tony again as his friend walked up to him with a questioning eyebrow; Justin shrugged his shoulders in response, a little irritated by the 'this one time' part, but sensing the worry in Brian's voice. He hadn't missed the 'please' in Brian's statement, either; something was wrong. "Okay," he replied as he thought he heard a sigh of relief on the other end. "We'll be there in a few minutes. See you shortly." Justin was about to disconnect when Brian spoke up one more time.

"Justin..."

"Yeah?"

"...I love you."

Justin frowned; _now_ he was really getting worried. It wasn't that Brian didn't say that to him occasionally, but he couldn't recall the last time he had ever said it in the presence of others. "I love you, too," he replied softly, concern etched across his brow. "Brian..." But his husband had disconnected the call.

"Problems?" Tony inquired as he placed a congenial hand on Justin's shoulder as Justin replaced the phone into his pocket.

Justin sighed as he stepped to the curb and looked for a cab to hail. "I don't know," he admitted as Tony walked over to join him. "Brian said to get back to the hotel - and to call a cab."

Tony frowned now. "For a couple of blocks? Why?"

Justin shook his head as he raised his hand to signal for an approaching cab; as the vehicle slowed down and pulled over to the nearby curb, Justin reached to open the door as Tony slid in beside him. Giving the cab driver their destination, he finally had a chance to answer Tony's question. "I have no idea," he answered tersely. "Brian didn't come out and say it, but I think there's some kind of trouble."

Tony pursed his lips firmly together. "Again?"

Justin eyed him wearily and nodded as they drove back toward the hotel.

* * *

A few minutes later, they entered the building, riding up to Fin's room in the elevator. As soon as they emerged and walked down the hallway, they immediately knew _something_ had changed: there were two, casually-dressed, bulky men standing on either side of the door to the suite. They were conversing quietly to each other as the two men walked up to the room. If Justin hadn't already figured out who they were, most guests in the hotel would have thought they were just standing around waiting for someone, but he knew better.

"ID?" One of the men intoned quietly as the two men reached the door; Justin found it somewhat disconcerting to be the subject of such an intense stare as he nonetheless reached into his jacket pocket and retrieved his wallet. As he slipped his driver's license out and handed it wordlessly to the man who had addressed him, Tony pulled out his keycard.

The man looked closely at the laminated card, and then back to Justin to compare the two before he nodded and stepped back several inches in acceptance, having been told by Fin earlier that both men were expected shortly. Tony pushed his key card into the slot, and, barely waiting for it to turn green, he pushed down on the door to enter as Justin followed him inside.

"What the fuck, Fin?" Tony grumbled as he shut the door and they walked into the large living area where his lover and Brian were sitting side by side on the couch. "What is going on now?" He didn't stop to think how ironic it was that, now that their relationship was out in the open, he was grousing about having TOO much attention rather than being confined to obscurity like he had been before.

Tony sat down on a chair next to Fin as his partner handed him a glass of scotch almost in apology and reminded him, "You knew Don was arranging for security."

Justin walked over to sit next to Brian on the rolled up arm of the leather couch; Brian took his hand and gripped it firmly in his lap. He pulled Justin down toward him; just enough to kiss him briefly on the lips as his husband eyed him silently, waiting for an explanation regarding his somewhat cryptic phone call earlier.

"Okay, Brian," he finally said after a few moments, unable to stand it any longer. "We're both back here safe and sound. Now tell us what the hell is going on before I imagine all sorts of things," he urged him, leaving no question that he wanted nothing held back.

Brian and his father exchanged a glance as Fin nodded. "I got a call from Regina about thirty minutes ago," Brian's father began. "She told me that her son cut off his monitoring ankle bracelet a couple of hours ago and has disappeared. No one seems to know where he is at the moment."

"Oh, shit," Tony replied as his mouth fell open in dread. "Surely he couldn't have gotten far, though. Those things are monitored 24/7, and the cops have to be out looking for him already."

Brian felt Justin's grasp tighten in his as he muttered, "Well, he's gotten far _enough_ apparently. I called Don and he found out the cops have already been to the father's house; he's not there and the father claims, at least, that he hasn't seen him."

"I can't believe they even let that fucker out!" Justin protested, his stomach churning with both anger and anxiety. "I knew this was going to happen; now he's going to come after you again!"

"Justin, calm down," Brian soothed him. "We don't know that."

Justin pulled his hand away from his as he stood up; twirling around to face him, he asked, "No? You think he's running off to Bermuda instead? He HATES you and Fin, Brian! He's not rational; I think that's already been established."

Brian brushed a hand through his hair in aggravation, knowing Justin was right. "I'm well aware of that, Justin! Why do you think I asked you to take a cab back here?"

Tony's eyes widened as he looked at Fin. "Do you have reason to believe that he's somewhere nearby?" At that moment, it was hard to tell whether he or Justin was the most concerned. He was trying to stay calm and keep his voice quiet, but his pounding heart was threatening to betray his emotions.

"No, Tony, neither one of us has heard anything of the kind," he reassured his partner firmly, knowing how worried he was. Truthfully, he wasn't so sure that both Tony and Justin weren't justified in their concern; at the moment, they had no idea where the man was, and apparently neither did anyone else. "It's just precautionary, that's all."

Tony shook his head before blowing out a tense breath. "I don't know, Fin."

"Don't know what?"

"If it's all worth it; worth all this constant looking behind your back. Worth all the hate that's been generated and all the acrimony. Whether it's worth your fucking _life_ - just to be given the opportunity to lead a state that seems so divisive you'll have constant difficulty even getting anyone to work together to accomplish your goals."

"Tony, we've been through all this before; I'm in too deep to retreat now. And you wouldn't expect me to back down just because the road isn't a smooth one. You know what I always say - nothing worth doing is worth doing it without a fight."

Tony squeezed his forehead with his fingers, feeling a tension headache threatening to emerge. "Normally, no; but somehow when your life is on the line, that tends to color my opinion somewhat." He sighed, knowing he - and Fin - were in it for the long haul; Fin was right - he never did anything half-assed, and he seemed to relish a challenge; without one, he felt like it was all too easy and not nearly as fulfilling. That didn't mean he had to like it, though. "Are you sure Regina's telling the truth, Fin?"

Fin reached over to take Tony's hand and grasp it reassuringly. "Tony, you _know _Regina; she's been with me for years! Yes, I believe her. She was horrified by what Adam did. No, I think she would be the last person to harbor him, despite being his mother. If she knew where he was, she would tell me, I'm sure of it."

Justin shook his head in disbelief over this latest turn of events as he turned around to walk over to the large picture window of the hotel room that overlooked the busy, downtown street below; they were high enough in the building for him not to be concerned that Stewart would somehow reach them from the outside, but it still didn't quell his fears for both his husband and his father-in-law. If anyone would have told him months ago that he would have had to worry about them in this manner, he would have never suggested that Brian take the job of Fin's campaign manager. He had expected a certain degree of hate and prejudice directed toward Fin due to his sexual orientation - after all, he had found out all too well how prejudice and bigotry could manifest itself - but he would have never expected this degree of animosity and downright hatred.

He felt Brian's arms slide around him from the back as he leaned into his strong embrace and closed his eyes briefly, wishing somehow that he could open them up again and everything would be fine. But he knew that was just a pipe dream, not reality.

Brian rubbed his face lovingly against Justin's cheek as Justin continued to stare down at the busy scene below. "Talk to me," he whispered, his voice warm on Justin's skin.

He turned around in Brian's arms to wrap his own around his husband's neck. "I don't have to tell you what I'm thinking," he whispered painfully as he played with Brian's hair, his concern clearly written all over his face. He could see Fin and Tony speaking softly behind them on the couch, no doubt discussing the same thing.

"Are you sorry I took the job of campaign manager for my father?" Brian asked as he gazed into the luminous, blue eyes.

Justin bit his upper lip in contemplation, trying to weigh the benefits against the hazards. Finally, he shook his head. "No, not really," he admitted. "Not if it's brought the two of you closer together, and I can tell that it has." He swallowed the lump in his throat. "But I admit sometimes I question the wisdom of suggesting it in the first place, after what's happened. Brian, no one can watch you and Fin 24/7, not matter _how_ good they are."

Brian raised his hands to grasp Justin's upper arms and pulled him a little closer. "Well, that's good, because I happen to be stingy when it comes to having you in my bed, and I think they might become just a little too titillated by your ass," Brian teased, trying to lighten his lover's mood just a bit and make his burden just a little less. "The days of my being a voyeur are long gone, Sunshine; I don't like to share you anymore." He knew that it had never really been Justin's idea in the first place to have threesomes or foursomes; he used to find it hot to watch Justin fuck someone else a long time ago, but he suspected that even with his husband's strong appetite for sex Justin had participated in their 'extra-curricular activities' mainly to please him. Now, however, he found the idea tedious and unnecessary. He would never come out and admit it - telling Justin from time to time that he loved him was hard enough - but Justin had been right so long ago; he _had_ eventually found something deeper and more meaningful than anonymous sex - a life with his soulmate. He wouldn't have it any other way now.

He managed to produce a slight smile on Justin's face as his husband answered, "I'm glad to hear it; I feel the same way." He sobered, though, as he added, "That doesn't make my worry over you and Fin any less, though. Or Tony's. I was worried enough _before_ Stewart escaped; now it's doubled."

Brian nodded in understanding. "Well, if it helps at all, we don't have much longer to go now with the campaign, and as much as both Fin and I despise the idea, there will be metal detectors stationed at all the entrances for the next debate." The next one would be a more public forum where questions would be generated from the audience in attendance; they wouldn't know what sort of question they would get until a random person was selected and stood up. That made it a little more precarious when it came to having the right answer to give - and the type of question that would be given - and it also made the venue more prone to wackos showing up. "Don't worry, Sunshine; they may hit Fin with a rubber band or a spitball or two, but other than that we'll be just fine."

"You'd better be, Mr. Kinney," Justin warned him. "I'm going to hold you to that."

The two turned slightly as they noticed Fin and Tony both rising from the couch.

"I'm going to take a shower," Fin told them. "You want to go ahead and order a delivery for dinner?" He grinned over at Tony. "Tony needs a shower, too; he's _really_ dirty."

"Hey!" Tony protested good-naturedly as his lover grinned.

"I wasn't talking about _that_ kind of dirty," Fin explained with a smirk as he smacked Tony on the ass. "Come on," he urged him as he pulled him along by the wrist. A couple of minutes later, they were both inside the large bathroom with the door closed behind them as the water started up.

* * *

Brian took Justin's hand and led him back over to the couch. "Does that Italian restaurant deliver?" he asked casually as he retrieved his glass of scotch and took a sip.

Justin leaned back into the couch cushion as their shoulders touched; still holding hands like the newlyweds they virtually were, he found himself touched by his husband's thoughtfulness, knowing he was trying to take his mind off his troubles. "Yeah, they do," he admitted sheepishly with a grin as he reached inside his pocket and pulled out a folded-up carryout menu. "How did you guess?"

Brian smiled as he caressed Justin's hand with his thumb. "Just lucky," he murmured, as he thought of just how many ways that applied to his and Justin's relationship. He watched as Justin dialed the number and ordered a large container of lasagna, a family-sized tossed salad, and pieces of garlic bread in record time, along with a bottle of red wine.

"About 45 minutes," Justin reported as he hung up and Brian nodded, but he was seemingly lost in thought. "What is it?" he pressed.

Brian stared into Justin's eyes for a moment before he told him, "There's something else I need to tell you. Do you remember that kid back in Harrisburg? The one that I put up in a hotel room for a few days because I felt sorry for him?"

Justin nodded.

"Well, I got a call from the hotel manager earlier this afternoon; seems the little ingrate trashed the room and took off - after breakfast, of course."

Justin sat up straighter in the couch and twisted around slightly to stare at Brian in surprise. "No shit! Why would he do that when you went to all that trouble to help him?"

Brian snorted. "Good question! The manager said he even took some of the bedding with him when he left, and get this: he had on a completely new outfit, courtesy, no doubt, of my _generosity_." He scarfed back one more shot of the liquor before he placed it none too gently down on the square table next to him. "I'm going to find that little asshole if it's the last thing I do." He gazed into the eyes of the man he loved deeply as he recalled a moment not so long ago and half-smiled. "At least when YOU used my credit card, you just pigged out on all the gourmet food; you were a slob back then but you had better manners than to trash the hotel suite like he did."

"Plus, you were reimbursed in other ways besides monetarily," Justin added helpfully with a smirk. "I personally think you got the better deal out of it."

Brian grinned. "Yeah, maybe I did," he admitted, thinking back to that episode of mind-blowing sex that had occurred afterward; that had to be one of their most passionate couplings, even after all this time. Perhaps it had been the thought in the back of his mind that he might never see Justin again, and his profound worry over what might have happened to him, but when he was presented with that beautiful, robe-clad body like a gift from the heavens, and Justin had looked at him with that evil gleam in his eye and asked if he 'needed help,' that had been one of the biggest turn-ons he had ever received. Even now, just the memory of it made his cock stir in appreciation. He waggled his eyebrows. "That was hot," he said simply as Justin flushed in response over the boldness he had displayed back then. Inside, his heart had been pounding, and he had been scared as hell over his audacity, but boy, what had followed had definitely confirmed that he had made the right move; he could feel Brian inside him for the entire next day as a result and he had never felt so marked, so taken, in all his life.

"Does the hotel supply robes for their guests here?" he asked innocently as one side of his mouth quirked up playfully.

Brian's grin widened. "As a matter of fact, they do," he told him as he stood up and pulled Justin up beside him. "And I think I really stink right now," he decided as he leaned down to kiss Justin briefly on the lips. "I could use some help getting undressed for my shower, too," he informed him, his voice low and sexy.

_Thank God for two bathrooms_, Justin decided as Brian began to pull him toward their bedroom suite, the situation with Alex temporarily forgotten.

* * *

Emerging from their combination fuck/shower session thirty minutes later and both dressed in casual outfits of jeans and long-sleeved sweaters - Justin in a cherry-red one that was Brian's favorite, and Brian in his traditional black color - the two men opened the door to their bedroom to find Tony and Fin sitting quietly again at the couch, their attention fixed intently on something playing on the television.

"What's...?"

"Shh," Fin cautioned his son as he urgently motioned with his hand for the two to approach. "Come and see this; you're not going to believe it."

Justin felt Brian's hand on his shoulder as they walked over to the couch to gaze at what was being broadcast on one of the national news channels; his breath caught in his throat as he read the information listed in the banner at the bottom: _Former gubernatorial candidate found dead._ There was a large photo of Turner displayed on the screen, also, leaving no doubt as to whom the female news anchor was referring to as she described how the man had apparently died of a gunshot wound.

"... _Initial reports indicate that Turner was killed due to a self-inflicted gunshot wound; there are unconfirmed indications that a weapon was found near the body. We are awaiting a police press conference scheduled for later today, however, to verify that; we will be covering that live at 5:00 p.m., Eastern Standard Time."_

The male counterpart on the screen, a man that Brian recognized as Bruce Collins, a long-time reporter with the station, answered the question he was silently longing to ask. "There have been questions raised regarding a possible connection between Turner's death and the disappearance of Adam Stewart, the man who formerly worked for Senator O'Connor that was recently charged with his assault and is currently on the run from his home confinement. However, my sources tell me that there is no evidence that the scene has been staged, and that it is simply a sad end to the life of a businessman who was once regarded with respect and admiration."

"Holy shit," Brian murmured in shock as he sank down into one of the overstuffed leather chairs next to the couch, his mouth hanging open in disbelief. Just when he thought nothing else could faze him, he was proven wrong. He looked up as he felt Justin's arm slide around his waist as he leaned into him, not sure if he was trying to provide comfort or obtain it. He wound his own arm around his husband and pulled him close as Justin sat down on the arm of the chair.

"That's a fucking shame," Fin uttered to everyone else's surprise. "The man was an idiot for being sucked up into this campaign in the first place, but before all this happened I heard he was a decent, hardworking man." He shook his head; he had always known that becoming involved with political wheeling and dealing manipulations could change a power-hungry person, but this was the first time he had actually heard of someone killing themselves as a result of it.

The room was quiet for several seconds as Fin flipped the television off using the remote, no longer wanting to hear any more. A rapping on the door caused all four of them to start slightly in response before Brian rose from his place in his chair and walked over to the door, looking through the peephole to observe a man wearing a red-and-white striped shirt and holding a large, white, paper bag in his hands. Seeing one of the security men at the door as well, he slid the security chain back and opened the door to admit the delivery man, accepting the food and paying him with short dispatch as he sent him on his way.

A few minutes later, the four were sitting at the dining nook, a half-full wine glass cradled in their hands. Fin quietly raised his glass as he stated, "I'd like to make a toast before we eat." As the three men lifted their glasses in kind, wondering if it was a good time for such a gesture, he gazed at Tony first and then at his son and son-in-law as he quietly said, "To love, truth, and integrity, three things that are in abundance here right now, but were sadly lacking in Turner's campaign. I'm a very lucky man." He thought he saw just the beginning glimmers of unshed tears in his son's eyes just before Brian nodded and they all silently took a sip.

* * *

_Same time_

Adam Stewart wiped his forehead with the back of his sleeve as he tried to catch his breath; as soon as he had found Turner dead in his desk chair, he had rushed out of the man's headquarters in a run and hadn't stopped until he had been at least two miles away, deep in the heavy trees that surrounded the property. He had made it out to the main road and had luckily been picked up by an unsuspecting, middle-aged man a few minutes later who had taken him into a small town a few miles outside of Wilkes-Barre; there he had holed himself up in some weathered dive nursing a couple of beers while he watched the news of Turner's suicide unfolding out of the corner of his eye.

He knew he had nothing to do with Turner's death; and while he couldn't say he was sorry the man had apparently decided to kill himself and spare him the trouble, he wasn't about to be blamed for the fucker's death. If he hadn't been forced to run out of there in his haste to separate himself from what had happened, he would have stopped to think about how lucky it had been for him that Turner had taken care of his retribution personally.

"Another one?"

He looked up, momentarily startled, as the burly, portly bartender with more hairs in his eyebrows than on his head eyed him curiously. He swallowed nervously as he shook his head no, lifting his gaze to peer up at the television perched on top of a filing cabinet in the corner; some sort of interference would make the reception break up from time to time with wavy lines of static, but there was enough there to clearly make out that Turner was the hot topic at the moment. Thankfully, his own escape had been pushed down to a secondary story as they droned on and on about the demise of a heretofore, 'upstanding' citizen. That description had almost caused him to puke in his beer, but he had somehow held it down, avoiding drawing any undue attention to himself as he tried his best to remain as nondescript as possible.

"Fucking shame what happened to that man," the bartender remarked as he followed Stewart's attention over to the special report being broadcast. "Got himself in with the wrong crowd, that one did. And now it looks like we're going to wind up with a queer for a governor, and we'll wind up being the laughing stock of the entire country."

Stewart frowned, blinking as he readjusted his attention back to the other man. "What about _Whittle_? He seems like a decent enough guy." Actually, Stewart didn't know all that much about him; he knew the man was straight - well, apparently, anyway, because he had a wife and kids - but apart from that he hadn't learned much else yet; he'd been too busy lately trying to stay out of jail.

The bartender shrugged as he proceeded to wipe off the bar counter with a damp, somewhat dirty white rag. "He seems okay enough, I guess, especially compared to all the crooks that surrounded Turner; but he's gotten into the game so late, I think it's too damn past the point to change things even if O'Connor IS a fag." He spat out some tobacco juice from his mouth into a nearby trashcan as Stewart wrinkled his nose in distaste at the action; he quickly hid his displeasure as the man turned back to face him.

"So you think he's definitely going to lose?" Stewart asked as a photo of the new contender suddenly appeared on the screen as if right on cue.

"Yep, unless he can redeem himself at the last debate coming up," the other man said as he eyed the new candidate intently.

Stewart's eyes widened. "Last debate?"

The bartender eyed him in disbelief. "Where have you been, boy? Under a rock?" He huffed. "The damn thing's been all over the news and my mailbox at home's been stuffed with notices about it. Yeah, there's one more debate in Harrisburg at the old town hall. This one's in front of an audience, though, and they get to ask the questions for a change. Let's hope someone nails that fucker and makes Whittle look like a saint, because it's his last shot in my opinion."

Stewart digested that information thoughtfully as he nodded and the bartender turned to wait on another customer down at the end of the fairly deserted bar; one last, desperate dream coalesced in his mind as he looked around and spied a trucker-type guy scooting back from his chair as it scraped against the wooden, planked floor. Belting down the rest of his drink, he slapped some money down on the bar and hurried to catch up with him.

* * *

_Two Days Later...Day of the Debate - Harrisburg_

Brian slowly opened his eyes, blinking as he stared up at the trey ceiling of his father's guest room first, and then lowered his gaze to linger on the smooth, unblemished skin of his husband who was currently half-draped on top of him. Justin's left leg was nestled in between the 'V' of his own legs with his upper body lying across his chest. The blond tendrils of hair that hid the beautiful face he loved so well tickled his chest as Justin breathed in and out through slightly-parted lips, but he didn't have the heart to move or get up yet; he was too busy admiring the spectacle sprawled out on top of him. He took his left hand and placed it lightly on top of the soft crown of hair, cradling Justin's head as he slowly caressed his husband's upper arm with his right.

After a few moments, he could feel a slight stirring beneath his touch, signaling that Justin was slowly awakening; it wasn't long before he saw his husband's head shift ever so slightly on his chest as Justin snuggled more deeply into his embrace.

Brian smiled, chuckling a little. "Nice try, Sunshine," he murmured as Justin groaned ever so imperceptibly. "But as much as I would prefer to stay here in bed with you, I have to get up and start getting ready for the debate."

"... Time is it?" Justin mumbled against him sleepily, his lips creating a delicious sort of vibration against Brian's skin as he spoke.

Brian moved his hand to stroke the light stubble of Justin's cheek as he replied softly, "About 7. You can stay in bed for a while. But I need to go take a shower."

Justin stretched out on top of him as he finally lifted his head up to peer into Brian's face. He brushed his cock against Brian's thigh, deliberately in Brian's opinion, as a knowing smirk broke out on Justin's face. "Not without me," Justin told him, his voice low and sultry.

Brian grinned. "I was hoping you'd see it that way," he responded as he raised himself up in bed and pulled Justin into his arms. They shared a passionate kiss before Brian pulled him off the bed, lifting him up as he grasped him by the ass and Justin wrapped his legs around his waist as they headed to the adjoining shower.

* * *

"You look quite dapper, Counselor, " Fin said admiringly as his partner straightened his tie in front of their dresser mirror. After quite a bit of gentle coercing, Tony had finally been convinced to return to his office, but not before Fin had reassured him that both he and Brian would be perfectly safe with all the security around.

He reached his arms around Tony's neck to help him straighten out his tie as Tony snorted. "Why can't you ever do that with your own tie, Senator?" he teased him with a grin before his face transformed into something more serious. "Promise me that you'll be careful. I have that trial for most of the day, but I'll head down to the town hall as soon as I can. I should be able to hopefully get there before the debate starts."

Fin turned around in his lover's arms. "Brian and I have more security than Ft. Knox, thanks to Don," he reassured him as he raised his hands to cup Tony's cheeks. "We'll both be just fine. I know you won't shortchange your client just to make sure you get there before it starts. There's no way that _anyone_ - I don't care WHO they are - will get through there with a knife or a gun, okay?"

Tony nodded as Fin leaned down to bestow a soft kiss on the willing mouth. "Okay," he agreed as they broke apart and he reached over to retrieve his car keys from the dresser. "I'm holding you to that," he reminded him as, reaching to tenderly tuck an errant strand of hair behind his lover's ear, he nodded silently before turning to go, knowing his mind would be on anything but his case today.

* * *

_Later that Evening - Harrisburg Town Hall_

"Holy shit," Fin murmured to Justin as they arrived at the center together; the entire front of the building was awash with media trucks, gawkers, even street vendors selling all sorts of wares. Fin shook his head in amazement; just when he thought he had seen it all, something would happen to change that. It seemed that Turner's suicide and Stewart's disappearance had worked wonders for generating publicity; whether it was good, however, was yet to be determined.

Justin gaped at the circus-like spectacle, wondering when the word _dignity_ had left campaign vernacular. There must have been at least 500 people camped out on the front lawn of the brick-clad building, he decided. He blew out a pregnant breath between his lips as their vehicle - a nondescript, four-door, silver sedan with tinted windows that allowed them to enter the gated driveway with relative obscurity - headed toward the entrance to the back of the structure. He flinched slightly as faces pressed up against the side window nearest him like guppies in a fishbowl as the reporters tried to determine if Fin was in the vehicle, but thankfully no one could tell from the outside. He felt Fin's hand squeezing his shoulder from beside him as the driver handed an I.D. to the security guard, who looked it over carefully before motioning them inside; another guard prevented any unwelcome - or disallowed - participants from following along behind them as Justin let out a breath of relief when the gate closed behind them.

"How far back are Brian and Don?" Fin asked as the driver pulled up at the rear of the building's entrance, knowing that Justin had just gotten off the phone with his son.

"He said they were about fifteen minutes behind us," he informed his father-in-law as the driver slowed to a stop. The two of them had decided to ride together when Brian had elected to remain at Fin's campaign headquarters a little longer, fielding a multitude of calls that were coming in fast and furious regarding Turner's death and Stewart's disappearance. Justin had tried to insist on remaining with him, but Brian had finally persuaded him to go ahead with Fin, reassuring him that he would be well-protected with Fin's head of security as his escort.

Fortunately, too, unlike the other location, this area was covered by an overhang which kept them away from the prying eyes of the media, who were no doubt trying to peer around the corner of the building to determine who had just been granted access. Justin felt a little less nervous as a result of the added camouflage, knowing that Brian and Don would be entering from the same location.

"How about Tony?" Justin queried as they got out of the car and entered through the back; this time Justin recognized the two men holding station on either side of the double doors as members of Fin's staff; apparently his father-in-law had made good on his promise to only employ security people that he knew personally after the last fiasco with the two bigots.

Fin held the door open for Justin as he followed him in. "He said his trial's wrapping up right now; he said it might be another 45 minutes or so before he can get here, so he thinks he'll be just a little late."

Justin nodded as they walked inside and met up with another staff member from Fin's campaign who led them down the polished, wooden hallway toward another set of double doors leading to the stage area, which was currently curtained off from the crowds beginning to stream in. The part where the last debate would be held was actually in a newer annex that provided for curved stadium seating, providing a smaller, more intimate venue for the proceedings, unlike the previous one that had wound up being so contentious.

As they followed Fin's staff member through the stage doors, it didn't take long to spot his opponent getting ready; a female makeup person was touching up his face as he turned to observe the trio making their way toward him. "Hey, there, Fella!" Dean Whittle greeted his old friend with a genuine smile as he walked up and stretched out his hand. He seemed to scrutinize him briefly as he asked, "How's the shoulder?"

"Much better, thanks," Fin told him with a smile of his own as they shook hands. "Ready for a little wrestling, minus the drama hopefully?" Fin looked over at Justin. "Oh, I don't think you've met my son-in-law yet. This is Justin Taylor-Kinney, my son Brian's husband."

To his relief, Justin didn't discern any expression of disdain or ridicule on the other man's face as Whittle reached for his hand. Fin had told him that this man was vastly different from Turner, but still, he was from the opposing, conservative party, so he hadn't been sure _what _to expect.

"Nice to meet you, Justin," Whittle greeted him with a smile as he firmly shook his head before letting go of it. He grimaced. "I hate having this pancake shit put on my face," he told his friend as he peered at Fin. He grinned. "But at least I'm not the only one who's being subjected to it, and it will hide that fake tan you have all over your body and not make me look so pasty-looking."

"Hey!" Fin declared in mock insult as one side of his mouth quirked up in amusement. His expression changed, though, as he asked Dean, "I'm sure you heard about Turner. That was quite a shock."

Dean nodded grimly. "Shock doesn't begin to cover it," he replied. "I was having brunch earlier at the hotel when I heard; my staff whisked me out of there so fast I still had my napkin balled up in my hand. They knew the press would be hounding me about it, and they were right; the phones at my headquarters have been ringing off the hook with a request for comments ever since. I'm sure it will be a hot topic tonight as well."

Fin nodded as Justin glanced back at the doors, silently wishing that Brian would show up. It hadn't been fifteen minutes yet, and he knew that Don Meyer was with him, but it still made him a little anxious.

"Justin?"

He turned as he realized Fin was trying to get his attention.

"Everything okay?" Fin asked. "I need to start getting ready for the debate."

Justin blinked before he nodded yes. "I just wish Brian would get here," he admitted, a little embarrassed.

Fin smiled at him in understanding. "I'm sure he'll be here soon," he told him with a smile. He placed his hand on Justin's shoulder. "Come on; you can watch them give me the Tammy Fay Baker treatment." At the puzzled look on Justin's forehead, he laughed. "I'll explain on the way - the makeup chair awaits."

Nodding, Justin followed his father-in-law over to the makeshift makeup studio - actually just a couple of wooden chairs perched in front of a tri-angled mirror on a matching table, surrounded by fat, round, fluorescent bulbs - and sat down next to his father-in-law as the young, red-headed girl got to work, occasionally sneaking glances back at the door in expectation of Brian appearing, but there was no sign of him. _Brian, where are you?  
_

* * *

_Ten Minutes Earlier..._

Brian flipped his cellphone shut as he gazed out the car's front window.

"I hope this rain holds out until after the debate," Don Meyer said behind the driver's wheel as he looked at the angry, gray clouds roiling in from the west. "A lot of the cars are going to have to be parked in the overflow grassy area of the town hall, and that can be a real mess if we get enough rain."

Brian nodded absently, his thoughts preoccupied with all the events that had occurred just in the past week: first they had learned of Justin's asshole of a father's culpability in laundering illegal campaign funds, then Stewart had escaped from his home confinement, followed by Turner's shocking suicide. Add to that his father's assault earlier at the other debate, and it had been one hell of a ride so far.

He was so preoccupied about what had transpired, in fact, that he almost missed the familiar-looking kid in a gray hoodie, jeans, and bright, stark-white sneakers casually strolling along on the nearby sidewalk, a dark green, plastic garbage bag slung over his shoulder. As the car passed the kid, however, Brian quickly twisted around in his seat and his eyes narrowed in anger as he instantly recognized who it was. "Pull over and stop the car!" he demanded suddenly. "Stop it _now_!"

"What?" Don asked, perplexed. "What is it?"

"It's that kid I was telling you about earlier!" Brian growled. "The little shit that racked up all those charges on my credit card; stop the damn car!"

"But we're already late..."

Brian's eyes darkened in anger as he watched Alex saunter down the sidewalk like he owned it. "I don't give a shit! I'M not the featured attraction at the debate; _Fin_ is! Now stop the fucking car so I can go twist that kid's neck!"

Don questioned the wisdom of both stopping the car in the middle of a downtown street with little protection, along with Brian's current frame of mind, but he knew the man well enough by now to hope (at least) that he was exaggerating his intentions just a bit. Besides, he _was _Fin's son and his campaign manager, so hopefully he had some common sense and was not actually considering committing bodily harm on a child. Finally deciding that he would just have to trust him, he slowed down the car and pulled over to the curb as Brian quickly opened the door and, not bothering to close it, ran off in hot pursuit of his quarry.

Alex's head shrouded in the hood of newly-acquired clothing, Brian took advantage of the kid's apparent obliviousness to quickly catch up. Alex couldn't hear the thundering sound of shoes fast approaching as Brian suddenly reached out and snatched the hood off the kid's head, exposing a wild mane of dirty blond hair as he yanked the smaller body roughly backward against his own. He could feel the kid trembling slightly in fear as Alex whirled around to confront him and instantly recognized who he was.

"Hey! Let me go!" The kid shouted, struggling to break free from Brian's grip and attracting the attention of several passersby who were leaving their office workplaces to return home. A couple of men wearing dark suits and carrying briefcases slowed down to gawk at them as Brian growled, "Just go about your business! My kid ran away from home, and I've come to fetch him!" He grabbed Alex around the waist and proceeded to forcefully lead him back toward his car as he stated loudly to everyone within earshot, "Come on, now, Son, let's go home and we can talk this out." He lowered his voice as he whispered in the kid's ear, "Before I tan your fucking hide..."

"Let me go, you asshole!" Alex snarled in reaction, continuing to struggle but helpless to escape from Brian's clutches. "I'll call the police!"

Brian merely smiled at the miscreant in amusement. "Go ahead!" he urged his captive. "Then I can tell them what you did!" He smirked as he noticed the blue eyes widen in alarm before the veil was promptly put back into place.

"You wouldn't dare!" Alex countered as Brian continued to half-drag, half-walk the kid back to the open door of his vehicle.

"_Watch_ me."

Don Meyer observed Brian tugging the protesting child back toward his car as people nearby gave him a suspicious stare, wondering what in the hell he was going to do with him; they were already running late for Fin's debate. Was Brian intending on stopping at the police station or the hotel? "Brian..." he began as he watched Fin's son shove the kid into the back of the car and slide in him beside him.

The kid shrunk into the corner of the passenger seat as he eyed Brian warily; Don briefly wondered how long the kid would stay in the car when Brian apparently read his mind and warned him, "Try to get out of this car and so help me, I'll drag you kicking and screaming straight to the damn cops so fast it'll make your head spin!"

Alex glared over at him, still clutching the wrinkled, dark-green, plastic garbage bag as if it contained precious jewels. "You can't hold me hostage, you fucker! I'll tell them you abused me!"

Brian laughed as Don watched the drama unfolding in the back seat. "Oh, you have quite an active imagination; I hate to disappoint you, but you're not my type."

"What do you want with me, then?" Alex asked suspiciously.

"What do you _think_? I want to know why you tore up that hotel room I paid for you. What the hell were you thinking? I gave you a decent place to sleep in who knows how long, all the fucking food you could eat, and a way to wash all the stink off you and you trash the place? What is _wrong_ with you?"

_You mean besides not having any family, no home, and nowhere to go? _Alex couldn't help thinking. "I don't have to explain myself to you," was the impertinent reply instead. "And you can't keep me as a hostage, either."

Brian smirked. "Oh, really? Okay. You have two choices here, Mr. High and Mighty. Either you work off the hotel charges you racked up on my credit card - which could take you well into puberty - or I drop your ass off at the nearest police station and file charges. Maybe you'd prefer a comfy-cozy jail cell instead of a hotel suite."

Alex eyed Brian warily through narrowed eyes. "What _sort _of work? Are you a pimp?"

Don covered his mouth to keep from laughing as Brian looked at the kid aghast, highly insulted.

"Do you see me wearing mounds of chains around my neck or a fur coat? Do I have a gold tooth in my mouth?"

Alex shrugged. "So maybe you're a high-class pimp instead."

Brian rolled his eyes and snorted. "Well, you're half right. We're definitely in two different classes here, and I don't mind riches. You're the rudest snot-nosed kid I think I ever have the displeasure of meeting." God knows Brian had met enough rude clients in his days, and enough bigots to fill the entire downtown of Pittsburgh, but at least he could say that his own kid was polite and considerate. Of course, Gus had never really wanted for anything or been thrown out on the streets, either. That still didn't excuse this kid's impertinence, though, or lack of appreciation for what it cost to replace things. He sighed. "Don't worry; your cute little ass is safe with me. Although you WILL be working your ass off, though. Just not _peddling_ your ass." He raised his right eyebrow. "So what's it going to be? The cops or me?"

"This is kidnapping, you know," Alex protested.

"Ten seconds," Brian retorted as he looked down at his Rolex. "I'm a busy man, and I'm already running late. Tick, tick..." He wasn't even sure why he was even giving the little shit a choice, anyway. Why didn't he just drop the kid off at the police station and let THEM deal with him? He refused to think about the logic behind that question.

Alex sighed heavily. Would working to pay off the debt owed be worse than living on the street? There was something about this man, anyway; something intangible but bluntly sincere about him in an odd sort of way. Besides, what was there to lose? Anything might be better than trying to get by every day, not knowing what would happen or where to go. "Where are you taking me?"

"Back to Pittsburgh; but first you're going to keep Don here company."

"What?!" Both Alex and Don said simultaneously.

"Chill!" Brian demanded in irritation as he held his hands up. "What I mean is," he explained as he looked over at Don in the front seat, "Is that you'll have to babysit the charming lad while Fin's debating Whittle, and then I'll take him back with me and Justin to the Pitts afterward so he can get acquainted with Warden Debbie and her wayward boys' camp."

Don looked at him, perplexed. Didn't Brian just say he wasn't taking the kid to the cops? "Warden Debbie?"

Brian chuckled. "I'll explain on the way; let's go. We're already late."

Don nodded as Brian closed the passenger side door and he slowly pulled back out into traffic, wondering if it would be easier for him to guard Fin or the kid. The silence was pronounced in the backseat as he began to pick up speed, finally deciding that it was at best a draw.

* * *

_Harrisburg Town Hall - Thirty Minutes Later_

Justin bit his lower lip in worry as he glanced over at the black, round clock over the backstage door, ticking away the minutes since he had last spoken with Brian. He finally decided that visions of the concerned, little housewife be damned as he flipped his cellphone open and dialed his husband's number. He waiting anxiously while it rung once, then two times before he finally heard it connect.

"I know, I know, I'm running late," Brian answered without any further preamble.

"Is everything okay?" Justin asked, tremendously relieved to hear Brian's voice as he stood offstage. "Your father had to start without you, and he was getting worried, too, especially with everything going on right now."

"Yeah, I'm fine; Don and I were unexpectedly held up." He glanced over at the reason WHY they had been detained and was rewarded with a scowl and a glare as he rolled his eyes. "I'll explain everything when I get there; but I'm okay, don't worry. We're almost at the Town Hall now. How's the debate going so far?"

Justin cupped his hand over the receiver part of the phone, keeping his voice to a whisper as Fin began to respond to the first question from the audience. "He's doing fine," he reported, a touch of pride in his voice over how his father-in-law was holding his own, despite the initial question being deftly fielded by his opponent in regards to the current, challenging, economic state. Whittle had won the coin toss off-stage dictating which opponent would answer first. He wasn't sure if that was a good thing that Fin had the advantage of rebutting what his friend would say initially, however, since Whittle had the opportunity to refute anything that Fin might counter with.

Hearing a loud round of applause from the audience at Fin's response to the question, Justin was forced to speak up a little. "I'm glad everything's okay," he told Brian. "I'm backstage right now; I'll see you in a little while, then."

"Okay," Brian replied, having to strain to hear what his husband was saying. "Later." He flipped the phone shut as he eyed his captive, who was still holding onto the green plastic garbage firmly. "Can I borrow your suitcase the next time I go on a trip?" he asked with a smirk.

"Fuck you," was the instant reply as Alex continued to warily study the enigma known as Brian Kinney. It was hard to understand the man; apparently self-confidence wasn't one of his weaknesses, nor did he lack for snappy comebacks. It was hard, then, to figure out why the man cared. What was in it for HIM?

"Someone needs to teach you manners, you little shit," Brian muttered as he shook his head. He must be crazy to even be willing to help this snot-nosed kid. He certainly wasn't very grateful for what he was doing. Why in the hell didn't he just turn him in? Was it possible he actually saw just a little bit of himself inside? After all, he hadn't had the most joyous of childhoods, either, but at least he hadn't been thrown out on the streets; instead, he had had Debbie and Mikey as his sanctuary. If this kid really HAD been living on the streets for the past year or so, he couldn't begin to comprehend how he had survived, or what he had been forced to do. In a way, he reminded him a little of Hunter, but to look at him now no one would ever realize that he had been a former teen prostitute; the young man, now in his 20's was presently a graduate school candidate, pursuing a degree in child psychology. Michael had said it was his son's way of paying him and Ben back for what they had done for him. Was the same capability inside this child as well? Perhaps, perhaps not. But he knew that somehow, for some reason, he had to give him that chance.

"What goes around, comes around," Alex sing-songed as Brian watched him cross his arms across his chest defiantly and turn to stare out the window; as Don slowed down near the Town Hall, Alex's mouth hung open at the bright lights flashing across the front entrance. There must have been hundreds, if not thousands, of people milling around the front of the building, with white camera boom trucks everywhere. It was almost as bright as daylight due to all the lights temporarily set up.

"Holy shit," Alex murmured in awe as Don turned into the driveway and a throng of people came rushing up to the car to try and see if they were anyone important to note. The kid shrunk back away from the window as Brian said with surprising understanding, "They can't see you; the windows are tinted. There's no reason to be afraid."

Alex harrumphed in embarrassment. "I'm not afraid," was the stiff reply. Inside, though, Alex's heart was fluttering like a dozen butterflies were trying to escape.

Just like his boss before him, Don slowed down to present his I.D. at the security checkpoint before they proceeded onto the rear of the building. As he stopped in front of the rear entrance, he turned around in his seat to peer over at Brian. "I'm going to let you out here," he told him, "so you can go on in." He glanced over at his newly-appointed, temporary charge. "What do you want me to do with him in the meantime?"

Brian bit back what he _wanted_ to do with the kid as he replied, "Just keep Dennis the Menace busy until the debate's over, and then I'll take care over." He received a glare from Alex as he told him, "Do as the man says, _Dear_; remember, he plays with big guns and he knows how to use them." He chuckled at the scowl on Alex's face as he opened the side door and quickly disembarked, making sure to lock the door before he closed it so Alex couldn't get out; he thanked their good fortune that Meyer's car was equipped with kid-safety locks so the brat couldn't open the door on his own as he watched the car slowly pull out and head toward the parking lot nearby.

* * *

At the same time, the current question posed to both candidates inside the town hall was being concluded, as Whittle took his time laying out in his rebuttal to Fin's answer as to the reasons why the state should curb their import/export trading with international companies in an attempt to win back some manufacturing jobs that had been lost.

Justin stood just slightly offstage as he watched his father-in-law continue to deftly handle each question that had been offered to him, inordinately proud of how Fin continued to stay on focus and respond with eloquent, succinct ideas to each question; his replies were clear-cut and well-thought-out. It was obvious in his answers that he had given serious, careful thought to each scenario, and was well-prepared for any subject that might be raised. While he wasn't an expert in politics - leaving that more up to Brian, who by now was well-versed in the political climate - he had the distinct impression that Fin was winning a lot of votes this evening. He wasn't naïve, however; Whittle was holding his own as well, and the crowd, while polite, seemed to have more of a conservative slant based on the questions that were being broached.

The moderator - a well-known, local television news anchor - spoke as a bell sounded off-stage. "Your time is up, Mr. Whittle." He graciously allowed a few more seconds for Whittle to wrap up his response before he looked out into the audience toward his assistant holding up a microphone for the next member of the audience to speak; the person responsible that evening for the mobile lighting - to focus more attention on the person presenting each question - was lagging slightly behind the other stage employee, so it was a few seconds later before the next person to speak was cast out of the shadowy dimness of the seating area and could be seen clearly by not only the others in attendance, but the state-wide viewers who were observing the broadcast either on live television or through a live stream on their portable devices. When the light pole was swung his way, the man was abruptly cast into a bright, garish spotlight and Justin's face drained of all color as he recognized his father standing there with the microphone held out in front of him.

* * *

"Next question, please?" the moderator intoned politely; unbeknownst to everyone in attendance, as the assistant held out the microphone in front of Craig and waited for him to begin, it would be the last polite statement that would be uttered for some time to come.

To everyone observing him at the moment, Craig Taylor was the epitome of class: once he had his mission laid out, he had picked himself up from his alcohol stupor from the other day and had gone to great lengths to dress immaculately in a crisp, navy blue suit, with a light-blue, pin-striped dress shirt and a matching tie, wanting to stand out in the crowd of mainly working class attendees. His freshly-shampooed hair was carefully groomed into a flattering style, and his polished shoes gleamed under the glare of the temporary spotlight. As he stood there with the microphone thrust in front of him, he relished in the knowledge that his plan to get attention had worked. He tried, but wasn't quite successful, in hiding the icy stare he fixed upon one of the men he blamed for his son's plunge into depravity and immorality as Fin looked at him politely and waited for his question.

"Your question, Sir?" the moderator asked again when Craig didn't respond immediately.

Justin held his breath in stunned disbelief; how did his father wind up here? And what was he up to? Whatever it was, he knew it couldn't be good.

"Yeah, I have a question, _Senator_," Craig began, his voice icy and hard as it slowly rose in volume. "How can you stand there and even insinuate that you are suited to be governor of this state? It's you and your fag son who have ruined my son's life and my marriage." You could have heard a pin drop as a gasp erupted somewhere nearby over Craig's outrageous statements.

Fin squinted his eyes against the bright stage lights as he tried to decipher who the man was; out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Justin standing just off-stage, his face white with a look he couldn't quite decipher. Suddenly, however, as the words sunk in it became apparent to him who this man must be, and his face hardened with disgust. "You're Brian's father-in-law," Fin stated evenly, not backing down.

Craig bristled at the title. "I'm _no one's _'father-in-law,'" he spat out.

The audience, including Fin's opponent, listened breathlessly to their exchange, not quite sure what to make of what was being said or what to do to prevent it; the moderator's mouth fell partially open in shock as well.

Microphone held in his hand, Fin walked out from behind the podium where he had been standing, and approached the front of the stage, never taking his eyes off the man who was now staring daggers back at him. "You _are_ my son-in-law's father, are you not?" he countered evenly as all eyes were trained on him.

The vein on Craig's neck bulged as his face turned red. "I do NOT recognize that so-called marriage as being legal!" he shouted now, not even needing the microphone to be heard. "That is a farce and a slap in the face to every man and woman who truly ARE married!"

There was a smattering of applause from those in the audience who approved of Craig's interpretation of what a real marriage was, but the majority of the spectators in their seats remained deathly silent as the diatribe continued.

* * *

Brian slipped inside the back entrance doors after having his driver's license inspected by one of Meyer's security guys, briefly pausing to gain his bearings and decide which way to turn to head toward the stage. He could hear what sounded like muffled yelling coming from the front of the building and frowned; he couldn't tell just yet what was being said, but it was obvious that whoever was speaking was quite angry. Letting out a wary breath, he hurried toward the sound of the shouting, knowing that his father was no doubt the focus of it.

* * *

Justin stood there stiffly just offstage, his arms hugging his body tightly as he listened to Fin and his father's heated exchange. While Fin was trying his hardest to remain civil, his father's voice was rising and rising with each hateful statement. And while he had meant what he had said to Brian earlier about his father being dead to him now, it still didn't prevent the feelings of anguish and fury from building up inside him. Wasn't it bad enough that his father had supported Turner's candidacy to the point of breaking the law? Wasn't it bad enough that his father had lied not only to his mother, but also to his new wife? Wasn't it bad enough that he had constantly derided his feelings and dismissed his love for Brian as sick and corrupt, and ridiculed their marriage? Now he had the gall to come here and disrupt Fin's debate, also? Was there no end to what this man would do? Apparently not, he decided, as he slowly unfolded his arms and resolutely walked toward the curtain's edge.

* * *

Fin pursed his lips together firmly for a few seconds as the audience waited raptly for his reply; he forced himself to pause until he could compose himself before he responded clearly but quietly, "That is your opinion, Mr. Taylor, and you have every right to express it. But it doesn't happen to be mine, nor do I think that most in this audience tonight - whether here in person or watching on television or online - would deny my son and YOUR son the right to express their love in the way that they see fit, which I SHOULD point out under the laws of West Virginia, where they live, is perfectly legal, just as _your_ marriage is."

"Bullshit!" Craig yelled as the audience gasped and the censors cringed at the unexpected profanity, just barely having time to prevent it from being broadcast through their five-second delay. "That's why this world is going to hell; that's where you're ALL going to be!"

"No, DAD, that's where YOU will be!" Justin shouted back before Fin had a chance to reply, unable to just stand there silently; walking boldly out onto the stage next to his father-in-law, he faced his father through the unrelenting glare of the hot spotlights without flinching. "I don't believe there's any God that would approve of what you've done to me! You never accepted me for who I am! You tried to make me reject everything and everyone that I cared for and refused to acknowledge me as your son unless I lived the way that YOU wanted me to and lived a lie for the rest of my life! You have spouted hatred and bigotry for years now and even helped Turner to pay those men to lie just to hurt me! This isn't about Fin, is it? It's about your _queer_ _son_! That's what it's _always _been about, though, hasn't it? Is that what an upstanding, Christian, moral man does, Dad? Huh? Is your life better than Fin's because you happen to be straight and he's gay? Have you made a difference in other people's lives because of the way you've lived? Or have you been too busy hating anyone that's different from YOU?"

Craig brushed his hand through his hair in agitation, all of a sudden feeling the heated stares of hundreds of people peering over at him in a new light; an _unpleasant _light. "I've been a successful businessman for YEARS, Justin, you know that!" he retorted as he grasped wildly at whatever defense he could. "And I raised you and Molly the right way!"

Justin laughed as the moderator, Fin, and Dean all tried to figure out if they should let this personal sparring match continue. "The _right_ way? What _is_ that, _dad_? YOUR way? Preaching intolerance, bigotry, narrow-mindedness, and hatred? Well, guess what? This man next to me is a _hundred_ times better than you will ever be! And you know why? Because he doesn't judge people based on who they love or what they look like or how much money they make, or what religion they are! He bases his opinions on what kind of person they are _inside_ and how they treat other human beings! He _embraces_ differences, not loathes them like you do!"

"Justin..." Fin murmured as he grasped his son-in-law's arm, not even sure what he was going to say, but finding himself unexpectedly embarrassed by all the compliments he was throwing out in his defense; his heart swelled with pride and joy, however, at the heartfelt words as he caught a motion out of the corner of his eye and observed his son standing at the top of the steps leading up to the stage. He wondered how long Brian had been there; from the concerned look on his face, however, he had an idea he had been there long enough. He watched as one of the two security men who had been stationed outside suddenly appeared by Brian's side and his son whispered something urgently into his ear as the man turned around and rushed down the steps.

Justin shrugged off his father-in-law's grasp, his face red with anger as his father stared back at him from the audience. "I told you the other day that you weren't my father anymore; now I know I made the right decision."

"Well, you were dead to me on the day that you told me you were queer!" Craig raged, his face contorted in fury as Justin flinched slightly at the horrible realization. "You hear me? You and your fag father-in-law and husband are all DEAD! You're all going to rot in _hell_!"

Justin shook his head sadly. "I pity you, Craig Taylor. You are a disgusting, contemptible and bitter man. I may wind up rotting in hell, but you're already _there_!"

"Hey, let me go, you asshole!" Craig suddenly shouted as the security man Brian had spoken to a few minutes earlier surprised him from behind and latched onto him tightly by the arms. "I have my rights!"

"Your rights are revoked!" the security man snarled as he began to drag him away in full view of everyone in attendance and on line or at home watching.

"You can't shut me up!" Craig shouted at the top of his lungs as he thrashed around wildly, trying to escape while the man dragged him to the nearby aisle and began to pull him toward the rear of the seating area. "See? This is the kind of Nazi treatment you'll be getting if you elect a fag for governor!" Craig warned. "This is police brutality! I'll sue every one of you! You can't get away with this!" He continued to shout at the top of his lungs as the man proceeded to drag him away, until at last his voice slowly faded away as he was shoved out the rear, interior doors and down the hallway toward the exit. Brian had already asked the man to take him to the police station; they were looking for him, anyway, in light of his money laundering activities, so he figured they might as well do the man - and the police - a favor.

A collective sigh of relief could be felt throughout the hall as Craig was dragged out of the room before, like a wave gaining momentum, a few people began to applaud, followed by a few more and a few more until it seemed the entire hall was clapping; Fin closed his eyes briefly before he pulled Justin to his side to give him a short embrace, his hand curled around his shoulders. Noticing Brian beginning to walk toward them, he turned Justin slightly so he, too, could see. He watched as Brian's eyes locked on Justin's before his son-in-law's face dissolved from anger into anguish over what had just happened. Brian held out his arms toward his husband as Justin took one last look at the hundreds of people staring back at him and applauding before he dashed behind the curtain to rush into Brian's embrace.

"We're going to take a two-minute break," the moderator decided, letting out a breath of relief himself that the unexpected tirade was finally over. As soon as the director controlling the debate called out "that's a break," he bent his head down in exhaustion and placed his head in his hands as the media rushed off to report through live-streaming tweets and live broadcasts what had just happened.

* * *

Dean walked over to his foe as he clamped his hand on his shoulder. "Shit, Fin, I'm sorry about that."

Fin shook his head. "It's not YOUR fault, Dean; you had nothing to do with it."

"I know, but I feel so bad for your son and for his husband, especially," he told him as he glanced over to the two men who were continuing to hold onto each other. "What a prick his father is! Did he really do what his son said he did?"

Fin nodded, his jaw set with disgust. "Yeah... And More." He followed his friend's gaze over to his son and Justin, knowing this had to have been extremely difficult for Justin to face, but proud of how he had confronted his father. "But they'll both be okay; they'll be _more_ than okay, because they have each other, and my son-in-law is a very courageous, young man."

Dean nodded. "Well, that certainly mixed things up," he commented dryly as Fin smiled back at him. "And I think you may have just won yourself some votes in the process." He let out a deep huff of breath. "It's going to be a little hard now to go back to more mundane topics like the economy and coal mining."

Fin nodded. "Yeah, but somehow I think that will be a welcome change."

Dean agreed as he squeezed Fin's shoulder before letting go. "Yeah, me, too."

* * *

Brian held tightly onto the trembling body plastered against his chest, so fucking impressed by his husband's courage and fortitude. He knew how much that had taken for Justin to get up in front of hundreds of people and defend him and his father. Despite what he had believed before, he thought he never loved this man more than he did at that moment as he continued to wrap his husband into a firm, comforting cocoon as they just stood there as one, oblivious to everything else going on.

Brian heard Justin let out a mournful sort of sigh before he finally pulled back slightly to lift his gaze and stare up into his eyes. Brian's heart broke at the sad, tearful look on his husband's face, knowing that Justin's previous vow that Craig meant nothing to him now was a lie. He may have tried to mean it at the time, but as he had pointed out, Justin was not the kind of person to sever family ties so readily, no matter how vindictive or unhealthy they were. He raised his hands to cup the sides of Justin's neck as he murmured, "I'm so sorry, Sunshine." He had long ago given up trying to fool this man that he really didn't do regrets; both of them knew better by now. "I'm sorry that I wasn't here to prevent that."

Justin shook his head slightly as Brian slowly caressed the smooth skin under his touch. "You couldn't have done anything, Brian; he obviously came in through the front entrance just like everyone else. There was no way anyone could have envisioned him showing up here." He let out another deep breath, almost as if he were trying to rid himself of the ugliness. "Is there no end to his hatred? Why can't he just leave us all alone?" he lamented.

Brian leaned in to rest his forehead against Justin's as he whispered, "I don't know, Justin. People like that, though, don't give up easily." He let out a breath through partly-opened lips as he leaned back to look into Justin's eyes and smiled. "Luckily for me and my father, though, neither does his son. I'm so fucking proud of how you stood up to him just now."

Justin swallowed the lump in his throat as he pulled Brian closer to him and laid his head against his shoulder. "I couldn't let him get away with what he said," he whispered. "I just hope I didn't ruin everything for your father," he added as he molded himself against his husband's chest.

Brian closed his eyes for a moment, savoring the contact with his lover as he cradled Justin to his body like a precious jewel. "Are you kidding? Didn't you hear everyone applauding what you did? You didn't ruin anything, Justin. And even if you had, Fin wouldn't have wanted you to act any other way than the way that you did. I'm sure my father is as proud of you as I am." Brian wasn't aware of the fact that he had just called Fin _his father_ for the first time, but it didn't go unnoticed by Justin, who chose not to point it out. It DID cement in his mind, however, how much closer the two men were becoming, and helped to assuage his sorrow just a bit.

They broke apart somewhat reluctantly as they heard the moderator coming back on line and announcing the continuation of the debate. Taking Justin's hand, Brian led him closer to the stage, catching the eye of his father who gave them both a small, wistful smile before he turned his attention back to the question being offered by a member of the audience. This time, however, the topic was much more relevant and pertinent than the previous one had been. Little did they know, too, how important Craig's outburst, and Justin's subsequent response, would be.

* * *

_A/N Note:_

_Hope you liked this chapter; I kind of struggled with this one for some reason.:/ Thanks for reading at any rate. I appreciate your support and encouragement more than you know.:) And as always, thanks, Gloria, for being such a wonderful beta.:)  
_


	32. Alex

_Some issues are resolved at the last debate while some others are created. Brian and Justin find out a shocking surprise regarding Alex. Also, will Debbie go along with their wishes?_

* * *

_Later that Evening_

Brian remained near Justin's side for the rest of the evening as the debate continued; one of Don's men had texted him earlier to assure him that Craig was, indeed, at the police station being processed for the charges pending against him, which served to reassure him somewhat. But he still felt a need to remain close by. To his relief, while Justin was perhaps a bit quieter and more contemplative than usual, he didn't appear to be too terribly rattled after his confrontation with his father. He could still denote a touch of sadness and melancholy in him, however.

Sitting on metal, folding chairs side by side at the edge of the stage behind the curtains, the two of them quietly listened to the final statements being offered from each candidate to conclude the last debate of the campaign. Fin, being the seasoned politician that he was, had been able to quickly get back on track with the questions being asked him after Craig's tirade earlier, while Whittle still seemed a little flustered by it, stumbling occasionally when responding to a constituent in the audience. It was almost as if he was expecting another outburst from someone, but it never came. In fact, one person in the audience went to the trouble of commending Justin for his strength and courage in confronting his homophobic father; a comment that was met with firm applause as Brian reached over to briefly squeeze his hand in support as well as pride.

Finally after another thirty minutes, the two candidates shook hands to conclude the debate and the voters slowly threaded their way back to the rear of the auditorium's exit; the stagehands began the task of collecting the sound and video equipment as Tony came rushing up to his partner, out of breath. Dean nodded an acknowledgement at him before he turned to leave the stage with his campaign staff.

Fin eyed Tony dryly. "Punctual as usual, Counselor. A _little late?_ Did the Scopes Monkey Trial need to be retried?"

Tony gave him a long-suffering look as Fin grinned at his expression. "Not exactly; let's just say that Judge Hargrove's version of 'brief' is a lot different than mine." He paused for a second as he look around curiously. "Did I miss anything earthshattering?"

Fin smirked; a look that was so much like his son's. "You might say that."

* * *

_A Few Minutes Later..._

"Justin!"

Justin turned to peer over at the other end of the stage as Tony came rushing up to him and Brian.

"Holy shit, are you okay?" Tony asked as Justin and Brian stood up to join him and Fin. "Fin just told me what happened."

Justin sighed; he really appreciated his friend's concern, but he didn't want to make more out of it than it was. "I'm fine," he told him as he felt Brian's hand on his shoulder next to him. "He was just being his typical, charming, asshole self as usual." He blew out a heavy breath between his lips, suddenly feeling the weight of what had happened earlier bearing down on him. "I just want to get out of here for a while." Tony nodded sympathetically as Justin made to leave, but he stopped when he felt Brian's hand squeeze his shoulder blade.

"Uh...Justin?"

He turned to look at his husband. "Yeah?" he asked wearily, tired after all the melodrama earlier.

"We have one more issue we need to handle, Sunshine."

Justin frowned; his blood ran cold as all sorts of horrid thoughts flashed through his mind. "I'm almost afraid to ask, but what?"

"We have a little problem we need to take care of."

Justin bestowed a barely tolerable look on his husband. "Brian, would you please just get to the point?"

Brian nodded. "Remember Alex? The brat that repaid my hospitality by trashing his hotel room?"

Justin nodded dryly. "He would be a little hard to forget."

Brian's mouth was set in a firm line as he told him, "Yeah, well, he's about to get a lot _less_ forgettable. I'm taking him back to the Pitts with us."

"What?!" Three voices replied at once incredulously.

Brian sighed as he explained, "On the way here Don and I ran into him out on the street. I wasn't about to let him get away with what he did, so I made a deal with him. Either I called the cops to report what he did, or he came back to the Pitts to work it off - with an even worse fate than a prison sentence."

A moment several years ago in time appeared in Justin's mind as he soon realized what Brian meant. "You're taking him to Debbie?" The way he said her name made Fin and Tony turn to look at each other as Fin shrugged. They had met Debbie a few times before - at the diner, at the wedding rehearsal dinner, and at the wedding itself. She was loud and brassy, but seemed harmless enough.

Brian grinned. "Yep. I'm sure he thinks he's getting off easy, too. Wait 'til he finds out the truth, though. He'll be wishing he signed up for the 'other' chain gang instead."

Tony frowned, still not quite sure what he had in mind; his worries were more of a legal nature, though. "Brian, you don't really know anything about this kid. And you can't just pluck him off the street and kidnap him."

Brian snorted. "Trust me, Counselor; it's not 'kidnapping;' he knows exactly what he's doing. He's coming of his own free will. It's either that or I drag his sorry ass straight to the cops and let THEM deal with him."

"But what about his parents or other relatives?" Tony pressed. "You would have to have their permission..."

"According to what he told me, his parents are dead and he doesn't have any other relatives. Besides, how do you suggest I do that, Counselor? Research his family tree? I'm not letting him off scot free here."

Fin glanced over at his partner; he had talked to Tony about the kid a few days ago. "Maybe Tony's right, Brian; why NOT just let the cops handle this?"

Brian studied that question; he had been silently wondering the same thing himself. Why WAS he going to all this trouble? It would certainly be easier just to file a police report and be done with the kid. Of course, he would never have any hopes of getting reimbursed that way, either, but truthfully it wasn't as if he needed to be. He could well afford to pay for the damage pretty much without blinking an eye. No, he knew there was more to this than that, and he suspected that Justin did, too, as he peered over to observe a set of blue eyes gazing thoughtfully into his, but at the moment he didn't want to try and analyze it too closely.

"Brian?" was the soft entreaty anyway. "You want to help this kid, don't you? Even after everything he did."

Brian averted his eyes downward, suddenly feeling awkward. He realized he couldn't deny it. "Yeah, I guess I do," he finally admitted before he raised his eyes to look over at his husband. "I'm not even sure why, either. I mean, the kid's a fucking brat. Not appreciative at all and a smart ass. But there's just something about him; hell, I don't know."

Justin reached over to clasp his hand and give it a squeeze. "Something that maybe reminds you of yourself when _you_ were growing up?" he asked.

Fin swallowed hard as he listened to Brian and Justin's quiet conversation. Even though he had never even known he _had_ a son at the time, he couldn't help feeling guilty that Brian had apparently endured a hard childhood at the hands of his adoptive parents; he had heard enough before to know that they were downright cruel to him at times. That realization would haunt him for the rest of his life. If only he had known...He could feel Tony's eyes on him as he quietly listened to what his son was saying.

Brian pursed his lips together in response before he finally said, "I just know I can't turn him over to the cops."

Justin nodded in understanding. "Where is he now?"

"Don was appointed the pleasure of babysitting him," he divulged wryly. "Probably about ready to tear his hair out, too; the kid has absolutely no manners."

Justin had to smile at that. "Well, if anyone can whip him into shape, I have a feeling it's Debbie. Does she know what you have in mind?"

"No," Brian admitted as he curled his lips under. "But she'll do it; she has this thing for lost souls."

Justin smiled fondly, the memory of his own ordeal as a teenager with no place to go still vivid in his mind. "Yeah, she does." He looked over at Tony and his father-in-law who were silently gazing at them. "I guess this is where we part, then," he decided. "Unless you want to let us keep Don as a bodyguard; something tells me we might need him on the way home."

Fin grinned as he shook his head. "Sorry, but I think he's booked solid."

Justin grimaced. "I was afraid you'd say that." He turned to look at Brian as he squared his shoulders; if Brian felt a need to do this, then he would go along with whatever was needed to be done. "Ready to go, then?" he simply asked. "I know _I_ am." Secretly he hoped that the Alex kid would be at least tolerated at Debbie's house; he had no doubt that she would be able to handle anything the irascible kid threw her way, but to just spring a child of unknown age and definite petulant temperament on her unannounced was asking a lot, even for someone like her. After what had happened earlier with Turner, Stewart's escape, and his father, he desperately needed some time alone with Brian, though.

Brian reached over to gently ruffle the hair at the back of Justin's neck, finding himself falling even more in love with him at that moment. He knew he was asking a lot of him; even HE had no idea how this would end. But he DID know that he felt this inescapable need to try and help the kid, despite what he had done. The fact that Justin accepted it so readily was testament to what sort of person he was. "Yeah, me too."

He looked over at Fin, unable to keep the unease from appearing on his face for not only Justin's sake but also his father's. "Is the security...?"

Fin nodded at him in assurance. "Sealed up tight as a drum; don't worry. And there's no way Justin's father or Stewart or any other maniac will get access to us now, at least not in here. But just be careful, though, okay? There's no way to watch everyone 24/7. I'm still concerned about Stewart especially; he's a real loose cannon. Just...watch your back then, all right?"

Brian nodded, finding his throat suddenly tight with emotion over his father's worry for him; that was certainly a new experience for him. "We'll be fine," he maintained. "As long as that kid doesn't stab me in the back on the way home." He turned to Justin. "Better ride in the backseat on the way back," he advised.

Justin rolled his eyes. "The fuck I will," he growled, although his words didn't hold any sting. "I'd like to get back to the Pitts in one piece, too."

Brian grinned. "Fair enough; in that case, Sunshine, let's go introduce you to the newest member of our family," he replied, invoking something Debbie had said to him so long ago after his impulsive trip to Chelsea.

"Can't wait," was the dry reply as the two of them headed off stage in search of their not-so-willing companion.

Fin and Tony watched them go with trepidation. "I hope they know what they're doing," Tony murmured as Fin placed his hand on his shoulder.

"Yeah, me, too," Fin responded. He turned to smile at his partner and let out a deep breath of relief that the tumultuous evening was finally over. "It's been a hell of a night, Counselor; what say we head on home, too? I could use a nice, hot shower with a nice, hot, blond. Know where I can find one?" he teased.

He laughed as Tony smacked him in the arm. "Yeah, I thought so. Let's get the hell out of here."

"Hang on a minute," was the surprising command as Don Meyer unexpectedly rushed up to them. "I need to tell you something. No one's leaving until the cops show up. Brian! Justin! Hold up a minute!"

The two turned their heads as they stopped near the exit door; they exchanged a worried glance as they walked back over to join Brian's father and Tony. "Where's the punk?" Brian asked Don. "You let him get away?"

Don shook his head. "No, I've got one of my men keeping an eye on him," he assured him. "But I had bigger fish to fry. Guess who tried to sneak in by the back door a few minutes ago?"

Justin sighed. "Not my father again."

Don shook his head in confusion; unaware of what had transpired earlier. He had been too busy playing babysitter to Alex to see too much of the actual debate; that is, until one of his men summoned him to the rear of the building to positively identify someone. "No, much bigger than that," he reported tersely, his lips drawn into a tight line. "Fin's biggest fan; Stewart himself. And with a big switchblade in his pocket, no less."

"What!?" all four men exclaimed in shock.

Fin's blood ran cold at the thought of one of his most trusted aide's son holding so much hatred for him merely because of who he was and who he dared to love; apparently Stewart must have made a beeline right for him once he had escaped from his ankle bracelet. He felt Tony grasp his sleeve in a vise-like grip as he demanded, "Where is he? I want to have a talk with that son of a bitch!"

"Fin, no!" Tony responded in alarm as he exchanged worried looks with Justin. He didn't want his lover anywhere near that lunatic. "He could have killed you and Brian, remember? Let the police take care of him. Don't get involved."

Fin opened his mouth to protest, but his vow to not let Stewart get away with what he had done died on his lips as he observed the uncharacteristic fear in his partner's eyes. Tony normally never backed down from a fight, but in this case he could see the worry etched all over his handsome face, and it made him pause.

"Please, Fin," Tony pleaded calmly. "Let them handle it. After his escape, they'll revoke his bail for sure and he won't get out of jail again until his trial."

"I think that's wise," Don interjected; he, too, was concerned for his friend's safety. "He's already firmly in custody now, Fin, with two of my men; trust me, the cops won't let him slip away again."

"Well, I'd be more than happy to rip the motherfucker's balls off for both of us," Brian snarled as he looked over at his father, the vein on the side of his neck popping out in anger.

"Brian..."

"Justin, the son of a bitch tried to _kill_ me! And he almost did kill my father!"

Justin firmly grabbed Brian by the upper arms to turn him around to face him and peered up at him resolutely. "I'm well aware of that, Brian," he told his husband curtly. "It's caused me more sleepless nights than I care to count. But I agree with Tony; I don't want either you OR Fin anywhere near that bastard. Please...we have something else we have to take care of anyway. Just let the cops deal with him for now."

"But I'd like to know what motivates someone like that to resort to such violence," Brian persisted, his eyes ablaze; although his urge to throttle some sense into the man was weakening as he gazed into his husband's anxious, blue eyes. He sighed finally in resignation, Justin lessening his grip as he instinctively realized his victory. "All right, Sunshine; you win - for now," he told him. "But you realize Fin and I are still going to have to confront him eventually."

"Fin?" Tony prodded his partner softly, hoping he would agree with Brian.

Fin nodded. "Okay. But no fair - two blue-eyed blonds against us," he muttered as Justin and Tony exchanged a conspiratorial look. "Brian, you go ahead and take care of what you need to do. Tony and I are headed back to the house for some much-needed down time. Where is Stewart now?" he asked Don.

He's being held in one of the meeting rooms here. Don't worry; I have men stationed with him and at the door, and he was thoroughly searched. He won't be going anywhere until the police come and pick him up."

I'll give you a call tomorrow morning, Brian," Fin told his son, satisfied that the man wasn't going to escape this time.

As Brian nodded and he and Justin turned to head toward the back door, his father added, "And good luck with your bundle of joy."

Brian snorted as Fin grinned back at him, knowing his son was not looking forward to the trip home.

* * *

_Fifteen Minutes Later_

Alex stared back at the blond stranger now sitting in the front passenger seat, suddenly feeling even more trapped than before. Wasn't it bad enough that this Kinney guy was insisting on blackmail in order to get his money back? Now there were TWO prison wardens in the car. "I didn't agree to let HIM come with us."

"It wasn't up to you," Brian responded sharply as he slowly pulled out of the center's parking lot and turned onto the main road. "And don't think about pulling any funny stuff, either; I ran track in high school."

"With those bird legs, I'm not surprised," was the retort. Justin couldn't help snickering softly as Brian turned to glare at him.

Justin turned around in his seat to stare over at their passenger curiously. "Brian told me your parents died last year," he told him softly. "I'm sorry about that."

"Why?" Alex groused. "You don't know me. If it wasn't for your so-called husband there, I wouldn't even be here."

"No," Justin agreed as he bristled at the insolent tone of the child's voice. "You're right. If it wasn't for him, you wouldn't have those new clothes on your back or be able to work off the debt you owe from trashing your hotel room, instead of having your butt thrown in jail," he told him stiffly, resentful of the way this kid was acting. "And it's called compassion; you should try it sometime." He stared the kid down unflinchingly. "Why did you do it, anyway? I don't get it."

Alex shrugged, green eyes flashing. "None of your business. I don't have to explain myself to you."

Justin sighed as he turned back around in his seat and gave Brian a pointed look; he could understand in a way why Brian was doing what he was doing, but he still silently questioned the wisdom of taking in a petulant, ungrateful kid like this. In a way, the boy reminded him a great deal of Hunter when HE had been discovered by Michael and Ben. Hunter had eventually turned out to be a responsible young man, however, and was currently working toward a degree in social work. This kid? He barely knew him, but something told him he would be just as difficult to handle and understand as Hunter had been. If anyone could work magic on him, though, it would be Debbie. Would it be enough, however?

"Watch your mouth," Brian growled in response just then, irked that this kid had the audacity to address Justin that way. "Or I'll just drive right to the cops and let THEM take care of you right now. Got it?" Silence prevailed. "I said, you got it?"

"Yeah, I got it," was the eventual, perturbed response from the back seat. "I said I would go; I don't have to entertain you on the way, though."

Justin shook his head in disgust as Brian silently reached over to clasp his hand and squeeze it in an attempt to mollify him, knowing his husband had had enough turmoil for the night but loving him for being willing to put up with this additional, bratty torture. He was rewarded with a slight smile in return before he turned his eyes back to the road, hoping the remainder of the drive would go by quickly.

* * *

_Three Hours Later - nearing Pittsburgh_

"This is the most boring trip I've ever been on."

Justin rolled his eyes in exasperation. During the past three hours, he had tried periodically to engage the kid in the back seat in polite conversation - although the range of topics was somewhat limited due to the boy's living arrangements on the street and his reluctance to discuss his family life - but all he consistently received in response was a surly, one-or-two-word reply and sometimes just a grunt or snort. So he had finally just given up and settled for an uncomfortable silence in the car instead.

"What did you expect?" Brian retorted as he eyes met Alex's in the rearview mirror. "The Alps of Switzerland? In case you hadn't noticed, Einstein, it's dark outside. And Pittsburgh is full of interstates and office buildings, just like Harrisburg. I'm sorry if the scenery doesn't live up to your high expectations. But don't worry; you're about to meet your prison matron soon enough."

Justin had to snicker at the remark, which just made Alex even more uncomfortable. It wouldn't be the first time the kid had encountered the unknown, which always made for some nervous moments, but the way Kinney kept alluding to this other person was very anxiety-provoking. But living on the street and having to eke out an existence there meant that Kinney wasn't going to know about that. The one thing you learned on the street was to talk a good talk just to stay in one piece. "Well, that's doesn't scare me," was the brash reply, even though it was the furthest thing from the truth.

Brian guffawed. "Yeah, well, let's see how brave you are after you meet her," he said as he watched Alex through hooded eyes, noticing the kid's arms folded defiantly across his chest. He exchanged a look with Justin before he activated his turn signal and veered off the interstate toward the east end of the city.

"I hope Debbie doesn't kill us when we show up unannounced," Justin told him softly. "Tell me again why we didn't let her know in advance?"

"You think she would have agreed to do it if we had called her first?" Brian countered. "It's a lot harder to say no when someone is standing there staring at you in the face. It always worked whenever YOU showed up unannounced," he pointed out.

Justin snorted. "Yeah, but at least I had manners."

"Hey, just shut the fuck up," was the instant response from the back seat. "I know what manners are."

Brian guffawed as Justin shook his head. "Good; then maybe you'll actually SHOW some when we arrive at Debbie's house. They have cops here, too, in the Pitts. And guess what?" He laughed then. "She _lives_ with one!"

"What the hell? You didn't tell me that!"

Brian smiled smugly. "Oh, it must have slipped my mind. Please excuse MY manners."

Justin grinned over at him, suddenly enjoying the kid's discomfiture. "I see your point. Better to spring it on her unannounced."

* * *

_Thirty Minutes Later..._

"Carl! Honey, can you get that?" Debbie called down from upstairs; she had her hands full of wet laundry at the moment and was preparing to toss it into the dryer when the doorbell rang.

"Yeah, I'll get it," he assured her as he put his can of beer down on the kitchen counter and walked over to the front door. Flipping on the outdoor porch light, he recognized the two men standing there and nodded at them. Turning the deadbolt, he pulled back the interior door and swung it inward. "Brian, Justin, this is a surprise; come on in," he told them as he held the door open for them. His eyes widened in surprise as a third visitor proceeded to follow them in; the child they were with was so much shorter than the pair that he hadn't even noticed the kid at first.

"Hey, Carl," Brian greeted him as he looked around the downstairs, his hands jammed into his pockets to try and get warmed up. "Is Debbie around somewhere?"

Carl nodded as he gazed curiously at the kid fidgeting next to them; the child, who appeared to be perhaps 10 or 11, was wearing what seemed to be new sneakers, a new pair of dark jeans, and a gray hoodie; the hood was pulled down low over his head, however, so he couldn't make out much of the boy's features, but the eyes boring back at him from underneath were both nervous as well as defiant. He had seen that look so many times before - a combination of anxiety, nervousness, and fear. "Deb!" he called up the steps as he studied the child closely. "Two of your boys are here to visit!" He swept his hand out toward the living room. "Want to come in and sit down? She's doing some laundry upstairs."

Brian and Justin nodded as Brian reached out and grabbed Alex by the hood to pull him none too gently toward the living room. "Sit," he barked quietly as he pushed him toward an overstuffed, flowered chair with a crocheted rug hanging over the back. Alex roughly pulled away from Brian before plopping into the chair as commanded with a loud, derisive sort of huff.

Carl's eyes narrowed in curiosity as he opened his mouth to ask what was going on; he didn't have the chance to say anything further, however, as Debbie came enthusiastically bounding down the steps. "Sunshine! Brian! What are you doing here? I thought you'd be in Harrisburg." She rushed up to hug and kiss Justin on the cheek before repeating the same gesture with Brian; her face darkened as she explained, "Carl and I watched the debate tonight; what an asshole your father was!" she told Justin before her expression brightened into a smile. "I was so fucking proud of you, though, for standing up to him; you were so brave, Baby."

"Thanks, Deb," Justin murmured in embarrassment as his face flushed over her effusive praise. "I just hope I never have to see him again."

"You don't know the half of what's happened tonight, Deb," Brian told her and Carl as he glanced over at their charge. "Not only did Craig show up, but they caught Adam Stewart at the back door, trying to get in with a knife in his pocket."

"Holy shit!" she exclaimed with a gasp. "What is wrong with that man? Did anyone get hurt? Your father's okay? I really like that man," she told him.

Brian smiled as the words flowed out of his surrogate mother. "No, no one got hurt," he assured her. "Everyone's fine."

"They caught the bastard?" Carl asked by her side as Brian nodded. "Good. Let's hope their security is better this time. He should have never been home incarcerated in the first place."

"I couldn't agree more," Brian told them as he placed his hand around Justin's shoulders. "But I think they know better than to let him out on bail this time; I think he's going to be in jail now for a very long time."

"Well, that's a relief," Debbie told him as she let out a tense breath. Just then, a slight movement out of the corner of her eye caught her attention as she noticed for the first time the other person slouched over in one of her chairs. "Who's this?" she asked in surprise as Alex stared back at her under the hood with shrouded eyes.

Brian walked over toward Alex and abruptly pushed the hood of his sweatshirt off his head before Alex had a chance to react; a splash of dirty blonde hair stood up in reaction to the static cling as Brian announced sarcastically, "Debbie, this sweet little tyke is Alex. Alex, say hello to Mrs. Novotny."

Alex, however, remained stonily silent as Brian rolled his eyes and sighed in disgust.

"Charming little thing," Debbie remarked dryly as she peered over at him. "He does speak, doesn't he?"

Justin snickered as Brian replied, "Oh, yeah, trust me; he has quite a wide range of vocabulary words. Living on the streets apparently provided him with a wonderful education."

"Living on the streets?" Carl interjected. "What does _that_ mean?"

Brian and Justin exchanged a look before Brian replied, "Deb, how about some coffee? I think this might take a while to explain."

Debbie frowned. "Sure, Kiddo," she told Brian as she continued to stare intently over at the sullen blond who was staring back at her warily. "Give me five minutes. Why don't you and Sunshine have a seat? Carl, can you help me, Honey?"

"Sure," he told her as he followed her into the kitchen. As soon as she was out of earshot, the two men walked over and plopped down wearily next to Alex on the couch. "Now you listen to me, you little shit," Brian hissed over at Alex in a loud whisper.

"Brian..." Justin reached to grab his husband's sleeve, but Brian was on a mission and chose to ignore him.

"You are to treat that woman with respect, you understand? She has been through a lot over the years, but has always been there for me and Justin. If you have any chance at all of redeeming yourself and paying back what you owe me, you will listen to what she says and follow her orders. You understand me? If not, I'll just turn you over to Carl there; he can take care of having you booked down at the police station right away. So which one is it going to be?"

Alex glared over at him. "You can't keep me here; I'll just run away."

Brian chortled. "In the middle of October? This isn't Hawaii, kid. It's going to get down to 25 degrees tonight. So unless you want to get out there and peddle your scrawny little ass in front of some old, decrepit pervert in hopes of snagging somewhere else to go, I suggest you do as I say. And you can keep your brand new clothes here, too, when you leave. Maybe I can resell them on eBay and at least get a few bucks out of them to help pay off your bill."

"I told you before; I never did that," Alex hissed in response. Yes, there had been times when dumpster diving had been necessary, but never that. After watching good old Mom and Dad die from a drug overdose, too, shooting up to forget about living on the street had never been an option, either.

"Oh, excuse me," Brian snarked. "I forgot that you're a _high-class_ street person."

Justin sighed. He knew Brian really did care about this kid's welfare, but he had to admit; the boy could be exasperating as hell. "Brian, please," he pleaded with him. "Just wait until we have a chance to talk this over with Debbie, okay?" He didn't even want to consider what would happen if Debbie refused; he sympathized with the kid, but he was not prepared to be a 24/7 guardian for him, either. If Debbie wouldn't agree to take him in, he figured Alex would wind up in foster care after all. Knowing how defiant and ungrateful he was, however, perhaps that wouldn't be such a bad thing.

Brian didn't have a further opportunity to say anything else to Justin or Alex before Debbie reappeared with a tray full of coffee mugs and one of hot chocolate for Alex, placing them down on the coffee table in front of the couch as she reached to take a sip from the nearest one. The action died on her lips, however, as Brian finally began to explain what he wanted from her.

* * *

Debbie's coffee grew cold as she placed her mug down almost as if in a trance as Brian explained why they were there. "Okay," she said slowly as she gazed over at the rebellious-looking child glaring back at her. At least with Hunter he had always been fairly communicative even when he was a smart ass; this one, however, seemed to enjoy being surly. "You plucked this kid off the street, gave him a hotel room to stay in for a few days because you felt sorry for him, let him buy new clothes on your credit card and then he paid you back by running off after trashing his room? Do I have that right?"

Brian cocked his head and raised his eyebrows. "Yeah, that's about it in a nutshell," he told her dryly. "The lad is so charming that I couldn't let his ass be hauled off to jail, though...not if I could get him to work off his debt," he growled as he stared daggers over at the ungrateful-looking kid. "Although I'm beginning to question that idea now."

"It wasn't _my_ idea," Alex finally retorted at him. "I didn't force you into this arrangement." Silently, however, the kid's heart was pounding in anxiety. What if this Brian person really DID decide to go through with his threat of going to the cops? That had to be worse than anything this woman could do.

"He _is_ an ungrateful little shit, isn't he?" Debbie muttered as Carl held up his hand for attention.

"Hang on a minute here," he told them, his lips pursed tightly together. "You all seem to be forgetting something. This child is a minor; no matter what his family situation might be, you just can't snatch him off the street and place him in the temporary custody of a stranger whether it's for good intentions or not. That's not legal."

Brian sighed; leave it to Horvath to throw hot water on the entire idea. "Carl, he told me himself; he has no living relatives. He needs to pay me back what he owes me; and I won't get it back if he's taken to juvie hall. So what would you _suggest_?"

Carl rubbed his balding scalp as he glanced over at Debbie who was uncharacteristically quiet; he could normally read Debbie's expression, but at that moment he wasn't sure if she wanted the kid to be sent away or if she wanted to fight to have him stay there. His girlfriend was normally nurturing to a fault when it came to lost souls, but this kid appeared to be way out of control, as well as a downright smartass; even Debbie had to have her limits.

"Carl?" she finally said quietly with a choked voice, and it was then that he knew as he looked over at her anxious-looking face what she was thinking; despite the child's insolent nature, Debbie didn't want him to go. He sighed over his dilemma, not wanting to disappoint the woman he loved but unable to simply look the other way.

"The only way he might even be remotely allowed to stay here is through an emergency custody order," he told them, "or if Debbie would be granted foster care status. Even then, a judge would have to issue an order decreeing it as valid."

"I wish Tony was here," Justin murmured; he would probably know exactly how to handle this. He supposed he could call him. But Carl seemed to have some knowledge as well. "Do you have any pull with the judge?" he asked the older man.

Three, no, four sets of eyes turned to stare at him; he found it interesting that they all seemed to have the same sort of hopeful expression on their face, even though the kid seemed to be doing his best to hide it. He noticed him picking absentmindedly at the pilled, rounded arm of the chair he was sitting in as he, too, waited for him to respond. "Well, I do happen to know one of the juvenile court judges. I might get him to allow the child to stay with us temporarily; at least until a full background check is done. But if they discover any living relatives at all, then the court will normally require the child to be handed over to them."

"He said there weren't any," Brian reminded him as he peered over at the kid. All he could make out at the moment, though, was the boy's downturned head.

Carl nodded. "Well, I suppose I could give the judge a call and see what he says. What's your last name?" he asked Alex. Silence reigned, however, as he watched him fold his hands over his chest.

Brian and Justin exchanged a wearisome look as Brian huffed in aggravation, *this* close to just calling the whole, fucking deal off. It had been bad enough seeing Justin's asshole of a father showing up earlier that evening, not to mention Stewart making an appearance. He was tired as hell, and this kid's nasty, insolent attitude was not helping his demeanor one bit. All he wanted to do at the moment was take Justin home, do a little fucking with him until they were both worn out, and then fall asleep in his arms. Justin always _was_ his best antidote to insomnia and stress.

"Look, you ungrateful little shit," he growled, eyes flashing in irritation as he leaned toward the kid, watching with satisfaction as the boy's eyes grew wide in reaction. "We're trying to fucking _help_ you here, in case you're too dense to realize that. But if you would rather have your scrawny little butt sitting in juvenile hall for who knows _how_ long instead, then go right ahead and refuse to cooperate. Carl here will be more than glad to just haul you off to Protective Services and let THEM deal with you."

"Brian..."

Brian huffed as he turned toward Justin. "I'm just tired of it," he told him flatly. "I never should have even bothered."

But Justin knew better; the kid obviously reminded him (painfully) of what he had been through as a child, and while he wasn't a psychiatrist, it didn't take a medical license to figure that out.

"You wouldn't dare," Alex retorted in challenge, silently afraid that he would do just that.

"Try me," was the icy response.

Carl sighed heavily; this wasn't getting any of them anywhere. "This may all be irrelevant," he wisely pointed out, "if I can't get the judge to go along with this." He peered over at the boy. "But if you won't even give me the information the judge will need to do a background check, then there's no point in me even making the call. Brian's right; if you don't want to do this, I have no choice but to take you over to Child Protective Services and let them handle your care."

"But I didn't ask for any of this!" Alex pointed out in desperation. "Why couldn't he have just left me alone?"

"Why, you..."

Justin reached over and squeezed Brian's wrist. "Brian, please. He's upset, and whether he would admit to it or not, I'm sure he's scared, too." Brian fortunately chose to be quiet as Justin gazed over at the boy intently. "Now's your chance to try and make a better life for yourself," he told Alex. "No matter what you say, you have to know that the street is not the right place for someone your age to be. Please...let us try to help you. Tell us what we need to know. Unless you do, there's nothing any of us can do for you."

Alex eyed each of them warily, still unsure of what their reasons were for wanting to help. No one had ever offered to do that before, at least not without having an ulterior motive; was there a choice, though, but to answer the question? The idea of being sent to either juvenile hall or to a foster home wasn't very appealing, nor was continuing to live day-to-day, not knowing what would happen or where the latest meal would come from. Dumpster diving got very old after a while, and so did cold, windy nights spent on godforsaken, musty, putrid mattresses in abandoned houses.

"Larkin."

The word was spoken so softly everyone almost missed it, but not Debbie who had been watching the kid intently. "What did you say?" she asked the child.

"I said...My last name is Larkin."

She nodded. "L-A-R-K-I-N?"

Alex nodded back, feeling the heated stares of everyone in the room. "Yeah." Even now, saying the name felt odd.

Carl saw a slight smile of triumph cross Debbie's face as he asked, "Son, do you remember your parents' first names?"

Alex concentrated on the calm tone of the man's voice, finding it soothing in a way, before confirming, "Yeah." Carl whipped out his ever-present, pocket-sized notebook and flipped it open, pulling out a small, stubby pencil in its spine just in time to scrawl the names of Jonas and Kelly Larkin down on the ruled paper.

Alex felt it odd to say their names aloud. They had never really been true parents; not really. They had been far too interested in shooting up than trying to be caring, responsible adults.

"And how old are you? When is your birthdate?"

Alex rattled off a date, proving to Brian that he had been correct when he had guessed the kid was around 10 or 11. He had turned out to be wrong by one year, though; apparently Alex was 12, instead.

Carl nodded as he rose to his feet, the notepad still in his hand. "I'll be back as soon as I can; I think I'll make the call upstairs." He had no idea what his old golfing buddy and former college friend would tell him, but he felt he needed to remove himself from all the prying eyes at the moment. He gave Debbie a reassuring smile before walking over to the steps and disappearing out of sight.

Debbie peered over at Alex. "Hungry?" she asked unexpectedly.

Justin couldn't help covering his mouth to hide his grin. He would have expected nothing less from her.

"Huh?" Alex asked in surprise.

"I said...Are you hungry? I know you're not deaf. Come on; I have some leftover lasagna from last night." Alex just sat there like a deer caught in a pair of headlights before Debbie stood up. "Don't just sit there; move! Go wash your hands first, though," she commanded as she pointed toward the rear of the house. "Bathroom's down the hall." To no one's surprise, after a few seconds the kid unfolded his legs from underneath him and trudged down the hall toward the bathroom as Debbie shuffled into the kitchen, soon pulling out a large, rectangular glass baking dish topped with Saran wrap out of the refrigerator to heat some up in the microwave.

Brian let out a heavy breath as he and Justin watched the kid obey. "Shit, what was I thinking?" he muttered as he placed his hand on Justin's shoulder and leaned in so their heads were touching. "I really must be out of my fucking mind."

Justin reached up to cup his hand around Brian's jaw as he whispered, "No, you aren't. But your secret is safe with me. I won't tell a soul that Brian Kinney actually has a heart." He smiled tenderly at his husband before their lips met for a kiss; it was shortly interrupted as a loud harrumph sounded from nearby as Alex returned and rolled his eyes at them, the hood firmly back in place. It didn't stay there for long, however.

"Put your hood down," Debbie sternly instructed as Alex muttered. "It's rude. No food until I can see who I'm serving."

Justin and Brian grinned as they watched Debbie work her magic; Alex's dirty blond hair was exposed again as the hood fell away once more. A few minutes later, a glass of iced tea was placed next to the warm lasagna and Alex was enthusiastically eating what Debbie had served.

"Don't eat so fast or you'll choke on it! I have plenty left. And elbows off the table!"

"Sheesh! What IS this, a monastery?"

Debbie waggled one red-lacquered fingernail in Alex's face. "Yeah, it is; and I'm the head mother! Now eat! Or no lemon bars for dessert!"

Alex made a face. "Who said I _wanted_ any lemon bars?"

* * *

"How long until you think she whacks him on the side of his head?" Brian whispered as they listened to the two interact.

Justin grinned. "I don't think she does that with anyone besides Michael," he told him. "She never did that with me."

Brian snorted as they watched Alex grudgingly take his elbows off the table and vigorously wolf down some of the lasagna before washing it down with a hefty swallow of iced tea. "He wasn't the only one; remember that left hook she bestowed on me after Vic died?" He eyed his husband curiously. "She always did treat you differently, though."

Justin frowned. "How do you mean?"

Brian shrugged. "I don't know; kind of like you were some sort of fragile, wounded butterfly or something. I think it was because of your age at the time - and the fact that she was convinced I was going to corrupt you and then dump you like yesterday's garbage. You know she's always been very protective of you."

Justin quirked one side of his mouth up. "I'm not sure if I like being equated with a fragile butterfly."

Brian curled his lips under. "I don't think she feels that way now; now you're more like a saber tooth tiger. Even though you still look like you're around 20 years old, you're a lot tougher than you look, Sunshine."

"Thanks; I think. And for your information, I do NOT look 'twenty.' I look at least twenty-two."

Brian leaned over and kissed Justin on the cheek before he whispered, "Well, if you don't tell anyone that I have a heart, I won't tell anyone your true age, old man."

"Hey, I'm trying to eat here; do you mind?" Alex protested from across the room.

"Oh, so sorry," Brian retorted before he pulled Justin to him by the scruff of his neck and plastered a tongue-curling kiss on him, only to be met with a loud 'eww' reverberating from the other side of the kitchen table a few seconds later.

"I think I'm going to puke," Alex decided.

"Boys, please!" Debbie chided them as they finally broke apart. "I'm trying to teach this kid some manners."

Justin looked at her in embarrassment as Brian merely smirked. "Why, Deb, I'm just showing the lad how a loving family acts."

Debbie snorted. "You're trying to be a pain in the ass, Brian Kinney." She sat down next to Alex, about to try and pry some more information out of him, just as the sound of footsteps could be heard. Debbie's heart began to pound as she observed Carl heading their way. "Carl? Did you get ahold of your friend?"

Carl nodded toward the other two men, who silently rose from their chairs and walked over to sit in the two empty chairs at the kitchen table across from Alex. Carl flipped open his note pad to read over what his friend had told him.

"Yeah, I had Judge Morrison's private number. He and I went to college together before I went to the academy and he went onto law school. I explained what was going on, and he did a background search on Alex and the parents while I was on the phone."

"And?" Brian pressed, one eyebrow raised in curiosity. "Are his parents dead like he told me?"

Carl shifted on his feet as he nodded. "Yes. They were both found dead of a drug overdose approximately a year ago. One of their neighbors tried to contact them and couldn't get an answer. Their car was still in the apartment building parking lot, but no one had seen them for a few days, so finally the apartment manager took his key and entered their apartment to find them both deceased. He contacted the police then."

Brian looked over at Alex, who was noticeably silent. "And where does he come in?"

"There was no one else in the apartment when they got there."

Brian nodded. That would jive with what the kid had told him. "Any other relatives?"

Carl looked over at the child and shook his head. "No. None that anyone is aware of."

"Told you," Alex finally spoke up stiffly. "Now do you believe me?"

"Maybe," Brian conceded. "Still doesn't explain why you felt a need to trash your hotel room, though. Care to explain that now?"

"I don't have to explain anything to you," Alex retorted as Brian rolled his eyes at the expected response.

"No, maybe not," he told him curtly. "But you're still going to pay me back by working your ass off at the diner for Debbie."

"What!?" That's child slum labor!"

"Too bad," he growled. "And don't think you'll get paid for it, either; every dime you make will go directly into an account to pay off what you damaged. Or stole."

Alex huffed. "No one would have wanted to sleep under that blanket, anyway; it smelled like shit."

"Like you do now?"

"Brian..." Justin looked over at Carl; that satisfied a small part of their curiosity, but not all. "Carl, what about Debbie having custody of Alex? Will the judge go along with it?"

Carl nodded. "Yeah; he told me he'll issue a temporary, emergency custody decree granting Debbie and me permission to keep Alex with us until they figure out a more permanent solution."

"And how long will that take?" Debbie asked softly.

* * *

Carl shrugged. "No way to really know. A week, a month, maybe? Just depends upon how much of a caseload the Protective Services people have. But for the time being, she'll be in our custody until a decision is made, and we will be responsible for her."

Brian laughed, wondering if Carl was getting senile. "You mean _him_."

But to his surprise, Carl shook his head. "No, I mean her. Alex is short for Alexandria, not Alexander."

* * *

_A/N: Thanks as always to my wonderful beta, boriqua522.:)_


	33. Poetic Justice

_Father and son, along with their partners, enjoy some private time at last while Debbie tries to analyze her new 'tenant.' _

* * *

_Last Chapter..._

_"Brian..." Justin looked over at Carl; that satisfied a small part of their curiosity, but not all. "Carl, what about Debbie having custody of Alex? Will the judge go along with it?"_

_Carl nodded. "Yeah; he told me he'll issue a temporary, emergency custody decree granting Debbie and me permission to keep Alex with us until they figure out a more permanent solution."_

_"And how long will that take?" Debbie asked softly._

_Carl shrugged. "No way to really know. A week, a month, maybe? Just depends upon how much of a caseload the Protective Services people have. But for the time being, she'll be in our custody until a decision is made, and we will be responsible for her."_

_Brian laughed, wondering if Carl was getting senile. "You mean him."_

_But to his surprise, Carl shook his head. "No, I mean her. Alex is short for Alexandria, not Alexander." _

* * *

Debbie gasped in shock as Brian and Justin gaped over at the person they now knew was a she.

"No way," Brian murmured in disbelief as Alex glared over at him from across the table. "You're shitting me. That's a boy."

Alex smirked at him. "Am I?" she countered. "You wanna see my tits to make sure?" She dared him as she started to reach down to pull at the hem of her hoodie for proof.

"No, don't bother," Brian hastily replied as he held his hands up. "We've had enough excitement for the day." He looked over at Carl for help. "Are you sure?" he asked dubiously, still not believing that the slim, dirty-haired waif staring back at him was a girl. With her slim figure, short, dirty-blonde hair, and boyish-looking apparel, she looked every bit as masculine as every other kid that age.

Alex snorted at the expression on Brian's face as Carl nodded in affirmation. "Yep," the older man told him as he flipped his notepad shut and studied the girl intently. "There's no question about it. Your runaway is a female."

"I am NOT a runaway," Alex quickly corrected him stiffly.

"Oh, excuse us," Brian said dryly. "You're right; you were just living on the streets because you like sleeping on vomit-covered mattresses and finding gourmet meals in the dumpster. We'll just call you a world traveler, then."

"Brian," Justin murmured in gentle reproach as Alex maturely stuck her tongue out at him. He turned to look over at the rebellious girl in a rather new light now. He had found it difficult enough to imagine someone so young out on the streets alone as a boy; as a girl it seemed even harder to fathom how she had survived all these months on her own. "Why didn't you tell us?" he asked gently.

"What difference would it have made?" she argued. "I didn't come here voluntarily," she reminded Justin as she stared over at Brian. "HE insisted, remember?"

"Oh, please," Brian retorted. "It was your choice where you went."

Alex laughed in derision. "Oh, yeah; either come here to this godforsaken place and work my ass off or go to jail. Some choice."

"Yes, it WAS a choice," Brian persisted. "And now you're going to carry out your end of the bargain, whether you like it or not." He rubbed his face wearily as her defiant eyes bored into his. "Life is full of choices," he told her. "You chose to trash that hotel room, and now you're going to learn there are consequences for every choice that you make."

"Blah, blah, blah," Alex quipped as she rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest.

Justin shook his head in exasperation as he listened to the exchange; Brian wasn't the only tired one at the moment. It had been a hell of a day.

As if sensing his weariness, Debbie pushed back from the table and began to pick up the dirty dishes. "No time like the present to learn the basics of busing," she told her guest. "You can start by picking up those dishes and taking them over to the sink."

Alex looked at her in disbelief. "I'm not the maid."

Carl opened his mouth to protest her lack of respect toward his girlfriend, but Debbie held her hand up in a clear signal that she would handle it. He had no doubt that she could, too, so he simply nodded as she told the girl, "Well, right _now_ you are. So get your scrawny ass up out of that chair and do what I say. Now."

"Please," was the snappy rejoinder.

Debbie narrowed her eyes in irritation as she stared at her opponent. "How's this? Please get up and help me or I will have you sleeping on the floor tonight and force you to listen to classical music all night long. Better?"

Alex contorted her face as if she had been asked to pick up roadkill. Debbie arched one eyebrow in response and stared over at her without blinking until, sighing heavily in melodramatic style, Alex pushed back from the table and silently gathered up her dishes along with a few others and followed Debbie into the kitchen.

"Shit," Brian muttered as he watched her go. "No one deserves this."

"Yeah," Justin agreed sympathetically. "She's had a hard way to go. I wonder how she managed to survive all this time on her own? And what she had to do in order to do that?"

"I don't mean her; I mean _Debbie_."

Justin rolled his eyes as Brian added, "I should have just turned her into the cops and been done with her. She's an ungrateful little shit to say the least." He was still trying to come to terms with Alex being a _she_; perhaps if he HAD known that from the start, he might have done something differently. What, though, he wasn't sure; and now it didn't matter anyway.

The turning of the lock in the front door just then averted the three men's attention away from Alex as the door swung open and Hunter sauntered in. His hair was cut shorter than he had normally worn it in his high school days, and he was sporting a neatly-trimmed beard which made him appear a few years older than his present age of 23. He was wearing a pair of favorite, dark blue denim jeans and a gray _University of Pittsburgh, School of Social Work_ sweatshirt with the university's blue emblem emblazoned in the center.

"Hey, if it isn't Rage and JT!" he called over to them with a grin, surprised to see Brian and Justin there. Not that they weren't visitors to the house from time to time, but lately with the campaign he had seen them only rarely in the past few months. "How's it going?" He walked over and grabbed an extra piece of garlic bread still lying in the bread basket in the middle of the table to tear off a big bite with his teeth before he slid into the chair that had been previously occupied by his grandmother.

He turned to eye Justin with a smile. "I saw your speech earlier this evening at the debate," he told him. "You kicked ass; shame you didn't get to kick HIS ass instead. What a prick."

Justin nodded, grateful for Hunter's support but still feeling somewhat upset about the entire ordeal. As if reading his mind, his husband reached over under the table and squeezed his hand as Brian replied, "Yeah, well, the prick wound up getting arrested afterward, so his ass is warming a jail cell at the moment."

"No shit!" Hunter replied. "What for? Disrupting the debate?"

Brian snorted. "Hell, no; he has a lot more to answer for than just being a Grade A asshole. He's wanted for money laundering. He's been diverting his company's money to offshore accounts to hide his profits from his hot young thing of a wife. Seems he didn't want to share his wealth with the new Mrs. Taylor."

Justin pinched the bridge of his nose, wanting the entire evening to just end; every mention of his father's name just brought back unpleasant memories to him. He knew it would probably always be that way now, sadly. He lifted his head as he heard Debbie let out a squeal of delight beside him - some things never changed, and one of them was Debbie's unique talent for being loud enough to be heard down the block. "Hi, Honey!" she shrieked in pleasure, a big smile breaking out on her face as dried off her hands on a rooster-motif dish towel before walking over to Hunter and leaning down to hug him from behind and give him a kiss on the cheek. She wiped off some of her lipstick from his cheek with one, red-lacquered fingernail as she asked, "Want some leftover lasagna? I've got plenty left over warming in the oven."

Hunter shook his head with a smile. "No, thanks, grandma; I picked up a sub on the way home." Just then he heard a dish rattling and swiveled his body around to observe a young stranger placing some plates in the sink. He frowned. "Who's that?"

Debbie glanced over at Carl for a moment before she divulged, "That's Alex. She's going to be staying with us for a while. She needs a place to live."

Hunter eyed her curiously, thinking he heard her swearing under her breath as she brought her index finger up to her mouth to suck on it from the cut she had just sustained from one of the dinner knives. "Where'd she come from?" he asked his grandmother, even though he wasn't exactly surprised that his grandmother was sheltering yet another waif; if it hadn't been for her intervention with him years ago - along with his dads - who knows where he would have wound up? Or if he would have even been alive to wonder about it?

"Probably one of Satan's spawns," Brian muttered as Alex shouted back in reaction, "I heard that."

Hunter chuckled as he looked over at Debbie. "How did you wind up with her?"

"It's a long story," Debbie told him quietly. "Don't worry; I'll tell you all about it later."

Hunter nodded as Alex walked back in with her hands jammed into her hoodie's pockets; she stared at him sullenly before plopping down into one of Debbie's overstuffed chairs nearby in the living room area, draping one of her legs over the arm as she swung it back and forth. "Just what I need; another chaperone. Does he live here, too? Exactly what IS this place, a frat house? Where am I going to sleep - in the basement?"

Brian snorted. "You're worried about that, after living in rat-infested, abandoned buildings? For someone who's been living like a vagrant bum for the last year, you have champagne tastes. Just say the word, and I'll be glad to haul your ass over to the mansion known as Juvie Hall."

"Brian, that's not helping," Debbie chided her surrogate son quietly as she held up a hand. Brian chuffed in aggravation but kept silent as she turned to Alex to inform her, "You'll be staying in my son's old room; Hunter lives up in the converted attic while he's attending college." She smiled over at him affectionately. "He's training to be a social worker; isn't that great?"

Alex crinkled her nose. "Oh, I'm overjoyed," she deadpanned as she stared over at him. "Now he can psychoanalyze me for his theme paper. Isn't he kind of old to still live with his mommy and daddy, though?"

To her surprise, Hunter laughed. "I _like_ this kid; kind of reminds me of someone else I used to know."

Debbie grinned. "Yeah, she does. But look at how _you_ turned out."

"Well, I knew a good deal when I saw it," Hunter teased her with a smile as Alex stared at the others as if they had all lost their mind. She felt like she was in some sort of Twilight zone episode. What in the hell were they talking about?

"Hunter is my grandson," Debbie explained as if reading her mind; at least that was how she thought of him, even though they weren't blood related. Of course, Debbie never looked at relationships strictly through a biological microscope, anyway; if she did, she wouldn't have acquired so many adopted 'sons' and 'grandchildren' over the years, ones that had provided her with abundant joy; much more joy than heartache.

"He was a lot like you when he was younger," she went on to explain quietly. "You actually have a lot in common with him, believe it or not. I think he could help you."

Alex burst out laughing as she stared over at the young man peering back at her; he looked much too 'straight lace' to have anything in common with her. "I seriously doubt that," she retorted. "What would I have in common with _him_? He looks like a total dweeb."

Hunter snickered at her description, finding it highly ironic in light of his past life. "If you only knew. I'll tell you all about it sometime; I think you'll be very surprised," he told her mysteriously.

Alex grunted dubiously. "Can't wait," she grumbled before letting forth with a heavy sigh. "If you think you're done with issuing me household chores, I'd like to see this prison cell I'll be sleeping in."

"Don't tempt us," Brian growled nearby, "or I'll be glad to show you a REAL prison cell. You don't know how lucky you got it," he told her, his eyes flashing over her insolent attitude. "You'd better start showing this lady some respect; she's going to a lot of trouble for you. We ALL are. Now apologize - or I'll drag you over to the police station and file a report about your diva impersonation at the hotel right now."

Alex bit her lip; it was clear from Brian's tone of voice and the expression on his face that he meant business, and honestly it wasn't such a bad place, even if it WAS tackier than a tourist gift shop. It certainly beat whatever else she had been calling a home up until now. She didn't even know WHY she had chosen to vent her frustrations on that hotel room. Brian didn't have to let her stay there; it had been very generous of him, considering that he didn't even know her. So why HAD she destroyed the room? She didn't understand, either. All she knew, though, was that she had managed to survive by not trusting anyone or anything, so it would be nearly impossible for her to change now. But if she didn't she would find herself taken into detention and no doubt farmed out to some foster family. At least this bunch seemed friendly enough, and didn't seem to mean her any harm. She would have to keep her guard up, though, just in case.

"Okay," she muttered under her breath at last.

Brian arched one eyebrow up. "Okay?" he pressed her. "Okay, what?"

Alex sighed as her next words came out in a rushed jumble, "_Imsorry_."

"Excuse me? I don't think I caught that."

"I said - I'm SORRY!" Alex shouted out in disgust as Brian smirked in triumph. "Are you deaf?"

"No," Brian admitted with a smug look on his face. "Just trying to make a point." He let out a deep breath as he stood up and glanced over at Justin, seeing tired lines etched around the blue eyes he loved so well. "If it's okay with you, Deb, Justin and I are pretty bushed. If you think you can satisfactorily confine Ms. Personality here to her room, I think we'll be heading back home. I assume you'll be putting her to work tomorrow?"

Debbie grinned as she looked over at her new charge. "Yep; I work first shift, so I'll get her into bed early. The breakfast crowd is always the busiest, and they start bright and early."

Alex looked over at her hesitantly. "How early is _bright and early_?" she asked as she held her breath in dread.

Debbie grinned. "Six o'clock on the dot, baby cakes. So I'll be waking you up at five in case you want to shower and catch some breakfast first before we head over to the diner. I'll lay one of my nightgowns out for you to sleep in; you'd better hand over those duds you're wearing right now so I can wash them tonight. You can't go in wearing those the way they are; they're filthy. We have a health code, you know. Come with me," she ordered like a drill sargeant as she crooked one finger at her and waggled it.

Brian pressed his lips together to keep from laughing at Alex's pained expression, but he did derive a certain amount of perverse pleasure from it as he watched the girl reluctantly stand up and shuffle after Debbie toward the steps.

"Bye, Boys!" Debbie called over to Brian and Justin. "Come and eat at the diner tomorrow so you can watch me whip this one into shape."

Brian laughed then as he nodded. "Can't wait to see the transformation," he called after her as she grinned. He watched as Alex threw one last glare at him before she turned and began to ascend the steps toward the upstairs, Debbie following close behind.

Justin watched her go as he asked Brian, "Are you sure she won't try to just run off in the middle of the night? What would stop her from doing that?"

"Nothing," Brian conceded as he, too, watched her disappear up the steps. "She's free to do just that. But honestly, Justin, where would she go? Back to the streets? Even if she IS a brat, I think she's smart enough to realize this is a lot better arrangement than what she had. And when Debbie works her over, she may just wind up being a decent kid. Look at Hunter," he pointed out as Hunter fixed a mock stare of insult back at him. "If HE can succeed, anyone can," Brian added with a smile.

"Thanks - I think," was the returning quip as Hunter broke off another piece of garlic bread and popped it into his mouth.

"Brian's right," Carl agreed. "I'm not going to lock her in here. If she wants to run, that's her choice. I can't hold her here against her will, and I think she's fully aware of that. I've seen enough homeless kids living on the street to be able to read them pretty well, and I don't think this kid is a runner. Don't get me wrong; I think she has a lot of emotional issues that need to be addressed - seeing what she has would mess up anyone's head - but I think she's also a smart kid to have lived on the streets all this time and kept her wits about her."

"You mean smart ALEC kid," Brian corrected him.

"If anyone can straighten her out, it's Debbie," Hunter agreed firmly. "And I'll be glad to add the _wisdom of my own experience_, too."

Brian nodded as Justin rose to stand beside him. "Sounds like a pretty lethal one-two punch," he declared as he placed a hand on Justin's shoulder, feeling how tight his muscles were under his touch. Perhaps a slow, languorous massage for his soulmate was in order once they got home, along with some much-needed TLC. "Ready to go?" he whispered to his husband as Justin nodded, more than anxious to leave and have some sorely-desired private time with him.

"Tell Debbie thanks again," Justin told Carl. "See you later, Hunter," he added as Hunter nodded back at him from his place over at the kitchen table.

"Yeah - And good luck; you're gonna need it," Brian quipped with a smile as Hunter smirked in understanding. He of all people was aware of how someone could hide under a shell of rebellion and callousness, when it was the furthest thing from the truth. It had taken his two adoptive fathers quite a while to break through his vulnerability, but he had been affected by them from the first moment they had spoken to him with such kindness and concern. That had dwelled in his mind for a long time, and he felt so grateful now for what they - and Debbie - had done for him. Perhaps he would finally have a chance to repay their kindness with this other lost soul who reminded him so much of himself.

As the two men left, Hunter turned to Carl. "Why do I get the impression things are about to get exciting around here?"

Carl harrumphed. "I don't think that's quite the word I would use," he told him. He shook his head, wondering if Debbie knew exactly what she was getting herself into; although, he suspected she wouldn't have had it any other way. _Debbie's Home for Lost Souls_ was back in business again; already, though, he could see that old, familiar spark in her eye. This was her calling - not being a waitress at the diner. That was just a front for her _real_ life's passion. He had heard once from Michael that his mother had wanted a long time ago to be a nurse; perhaps she was living that dream by adopting all these wandering, troubled souls. At least so far between Justin and Hunter - and even Emmett - they had all turned out to be quite remarkable adults. As for this latest 'adoptee,' he just hoped that both of them were up for the challenge; neither of them were spring chickens by any means, but he knew Debbie would die trying if she had to if it meant being able to help steer this petulant, rebellious girl toward a better life. Just like Hunter had been, he suspected that this girl was more bark than bite. In either case, they were all about to find out, because he knew Debbie was in it for as long as necessary.

"Go ahead," he told the two men. "We've got things under control here."

Brian gave him a doubtful look as if to say that perhaps he was deluding himself, but he nodded back at him as he placed his arm on Justin's shoulder and the two of them quietly exited through the front door

* * *

"I feel kind of guilty," Justin murmured a few minutes later as Brian pulled out slowly into traffic on their way back to Britin. Both of them needed some much-needed down time at the moment, but the quiet now was almost deafening.

Brian frowned as he glanced over at his husband. "Why?" he inquired softly as he turned onto the main road heading out of the Pitts.

"For dumping that kid on Debbie and Carl. We didn't even give them any advance notice; we just showed up on their doorstep."

"You think I did the wrong thing by leaving her with them?" Brian's mouth hung open slightly. "You know Debbie would have reacted the same way whether I had called her ahead of time or not; you know how she feels about playing savior to lost causes." He stared straight ahead into the quickly darkening night before turning his head to look back over at his husband. "What would you have suggested I do, then, Justin?" he asked, his voice sharp and almost accusatory. He winced; he hadn't meant for that to come out as caustic as it did as he saw Justin seem to flinch over his tone of voice. _Shit_.

Justin sighed. "I don't know," he responded truthfully as he reached over and briefly squeezed Brian's hand that was lying on top of his leg. "I know something had to be done. I just meant that maybe WE should have taken her instead."

Brian glanced over at his husband dubiously, one eyebrow raised. "You weren't exactly enamored with her in the car on the way to Deb's," he pointed out as they left the city limits on the way toward West Virginia. "So what changed?"

He noticed Justin appeared to squirm a little uncomfortably as he shrugged. "That was before I found out she was a girl," he told him as if that explained everything. "How do you think she survived all this time out on the streets?"

"I'm not sure I want to know," Brian admitted tersely. "And maybe she doesn't want us to know, either." He pursed his lips tightly together in thought for a moment before he added, "She probably needs to be tested, you know, for...Well, all sorts of things."

Justin nodded. If it hadn't been for Debbie, perhaps he could have been in a similar situation back when his father had thrown him out of the house and Brian had tried his best to keep him from worming his way into his life. He could have wound up being careless and having his entire life turned upside down as a result. Of course, he had been much older at the time - closer to Hunter's age than to Alex's - and he hadn't been a girl. But if Debbie hadn't been around to help him, too - and if he hadn't had the luxury of Daphne, Brian and their group of friends to help watch over him - who knows? He could have wound up on the streets just like this kid or worse, just like the dumpster boy. He bit his lip. To his shame, he couldn't even remember the guy's name at the moment.

"Justin?" was the soft, concerned entreaty as he blinked and turned his head to focus on a pair of expressive, hazel ones peering over at him.

"I know," he finally replied, realizing he had temporarily zoned out. "I think that would be wise, too."

Brian reached over to lightly ruffle the soft, blond hair at the back of Justin's neck. "You okay?" He had detected an almost melancholy tone in Justin's voice.

Justin smiled back at him wistfully. "Yeah," he whispered. "I was just thinking that if things had been different, maybe I would have been where Alex is now - or at least where she has been. Or I could have been dead, just like that guy that Debbie found in the dumpster." He shook his head in disgust. "Hell, I can't even remember that guy's name now!"

"Kemp," Brian instantly replied quietly, thinking back to when the blond with the surfer-type body had been discovered in the dumpster behind the diner, stiff and cold in the throes of rigor mortis. He could still clearly remember how cavalier he had been at the time about the guy's death, acting more concerned over his lunch than a boy who had been brutally murdered. Actually, the truth was that he had been scared shitless at the time; not for him, but for Justin. Because he was right; it wasn't too farfetched at all to think that if things had been different - if no one had cared about Justin's safety - the boy he had found himself falling in love with could have been the one in that dumpster instead of Kemp. The thought of not having Justin in his life now, and how desolate his life would have been without him, made him shudder.

As if reading his mind, he felt the back of Justin's hand against his cheek, reaffirming his presence as he turned to glance over at him; their eyes locked for a moment as he swallowed hard. Clearing his throat, he tried to change the subject. "So what are you saying, Sunshine?" he asked as he turned his eyes back to the road. "I thought you wanted a baby to raise, not a brat."

"I didn't say anything about raising her," he pointed out to his husband. "And I thought you didn't want to discuss a baby until after the election is over." Right now, it seemed like ages ago that Brian had discovered one of his secret wishes - to have a child to hold in his arms and to raise him or her together at Britin. After everything that had happened between him and his father - plus this newest development - even he wasn't sure how he felt about it now.

"I don't," he verified as he headed toward the Pennsylvania-West Virginia border. "Until my father's campaign is over, I have to concentrate on that." He snorted at the irony. "If only that were the ONLY thing I had to worry about at the moment." He sighed as he pulled onto the main interstate, a fifteen-minute ride ahead of them before they would finally be home and could perhaps have some relaxation time together. He let out a deep breath. "Just for one night, why don't we just concentrate on ourselves for a change? No Alex, no fathers - either one of ours - no campaign, no baby, nothing. Just the two of us. I'll stop at that diner in town and get us some takeout and we can go home, turn off all the fucking phones, the TV, the laptops, everything. I'll start up the hot tub out back and we can just pretend that no one exists until tomorrow morning. Okay?"

Justin nodded as he closed his eyes and leaned back into the soft leather of his seat. "Yeah; that sounds _more _than okay," he decided as he felt Brian reach for his hand. He linked his left hand with his husband's right and allowed the steady drone of the vehicle's motor to finally lull him into sleep.

* * *

_Same Time - Debbie's House_

Debbie sat on Michael's bed, waiting for Alex to emerge from the shower she was taking. She had managed to find the girl an old nightgown of hers from ages ago, stuffed in a box in the back of her closet. This was one time that her penchant to not throw anything away had come in handy, since she had managed to dig out a nightgown that wouldn't possibly fit her now, but would at least suffice for a little girl to wear to sleep in. Her love of Hagen Das ice cream with mounds of whipped cream on top had long ago transformed her into something just west of 'pleasingly plump.' Fortunately for her, however, Carl liked a woman who had 'meat on her bones,' as he loved to put it. She grimaced to herself as she eyed her reflection in the dresser mirror sitting directly across from her. Silently promising to take better care of herself - but knowing at the same time that she was lying to herself - she looked up to see her newest houseguest shuffling into the room wearing the sleepwear that was at least two sizes too big for her.

"Holy shit," she murmured in shock at the site of a freshly-scrubbed Alex. "You don't look like the same person." Alex's short, coarsely-textured mop of hair, which had been hidden under the hoodie most of the time and appeared to be a sort of an ash color before, was actually more of a honey blond color now that it had been washed. And her face and bare arms almost glowed from the rare introduction of soap to them. She still didn't have much of a figure - something that perhaps puberty would change - but her features didn't appear quite so androgynous now, especially with the sherbet-green, sleeveless, satin nightgown she was grudgingly wearing.

The girl surveyed her new surroundings with disdain. "Captain Astro?" she asked incredulously as she took in the drapes and matching bedspread; a threadbare, stuffed animal of some sort was lying on top of the two 'superhero' pillows. "You have GOT to be kidding me!"

"You have something against him?" Debbie retorted as she arched one eyebrow. "And just how do YOU know who he is, anyway? He wasn't even around when you were born." She still remembered how devastated Michael had been when they had killed him off.

Alex walked further into the room and stood in front of Michael's old bulletin board which still displayed high school photos of him; only now the oversized board had photos of Hunter and JR scattered amongst the others. She shrugged, finding her throat constricting. "My dad... he was a comic book geek." She fingered the fading, color photo depicting a younger Brian Kinney with a dark-haired teenager, assuming that must be this woman's son. Turning around, she explained, "How do you think he paid for his habit? He must have had a thousand of the things lying all over the house; he was at the pawn shop down the street so much the guy knew him by heart. He used to take me in there with him sometimes," she added, her eyes clouding over as she recalled those days. She laughed as she fingered the plastic sleeve of a comic book lying on top of the desk, but there was no amusement on her face or in her voice. "He probably thought they'd feel sorrier for him if he dragged his kid in there with him and he'd get more money for them."

She walked over to the narrow window overlooking the dark street below as she murmured, "All he ever cared about, though, was taking the money he got and using it find his next fix." She closed her eyes briefly as sorrow swept over her, all bravado gone from her voice. "And he pulled my mother down with him." She turned around, noticing Debbie staring at her silently, a look of sympathy on her face. She shook her head, suddenly feeling exposed. Her face hardened back into its unreadable shell as she pursed her lips tightly together. "With all this Captain Astro shit, it'll be a miracle if I can even get to sleep."

Debbie studied her intently, realizing Alex wasn't all that worried about the décor; there was much more churning inside of her at the moment. "Well, maybe we can just talk for a while until you're sleepy, then," she said softly as Alex stood there a few feet away, her hands wrapped around her thin waist as if she were trying to protect herself. Perhaps she was.

"I don't have anything else to say," she replied tersely as she walked over and sat down gingerly on the end of the bed, a few feet away from Debbie.

"I don't believe that," Debbie told her quietly. "You had a great deal to say earlier at dinner. I think you still have a _lot_ to say. I've been told that I'm a good listener, too." She reached out her hand with the intention of placing it comfortingly on Alex's shoulder, noticing how bony it looked, only to watch her scoot just enough away from her to avoid her touch.

"Well, I'm all talked out now," Alex told her flatly, her lips pressed together and her eyes focused on nothing in particular as she stared straight ahead at the window. She felt caged up all of a sudden, disoriented, and yes, afraid, even though she would never admit it to this woman. She had learned long ago not to risk anyone knowing how alone she felt or how scared she might be; that was too personal, too likely to get her into trouble. On the streets you learned to trust no one but yourself.

Debbie peered over at her, her heart aching over not what this child was saying, but what she _wasn't _saying. Hopefully there would be a chance for that later. She could be a stubborn woman when she needed to be, but she was also smart enough to know when to bide her time. "Maybe it's just as well," she agreed as she rose to her feet, noticing Alex's eyes following her. "We both have to get up early tomorrow." She smiled over at her slightly in reassurance. "Get some rest, then."

Alex stared over at her apparently in indecision before she finally pulled the covers further aside and twisted her body to sit with her back against the headrest of the bed, her knees drawn as she linked her arms around them.

"Want me to keep the nightlight on?" Debbie suggested. "It can get pretty dark in here at night, and if you needed to get a drink or use the bathroom..."

"I'm not some whiny little kid!" Alex insisted. "I'm not afraid of the dark." She hugged her body tighter, her eyes flashing at the mere insinuation.

Debbie nodded with another soft smile. "No, of course not," she agreed, perhaps too readily in Alex's opinion. "Well, it's right over there if you change your mind, and I'll leave the door cracked just in case."

"Do whatever you want," the girl replied. "I'll NEED it completely dark in order to shut out all these images of Captain Astro."

Debbie had to grin over that statement; Michael always _had _been over the top when it came to his hero worship fetish. "I always planned on redecorating this room," she confessed to Alex as she placed her hand on the doorknob. "Maybe you can help me do that sometime."

"I don't plan on being here that long," Alex asserted quickly.

Debbie nodded, but her face couldn't disguise her opinion regarding that statement. "Get some sleep, Kiddo," she whispered. "I'll wake you up tomorrow morning. I'll be right down the hall if you need me." Glancing over at the young girl trying so hard to appear independent and unflappable but doing only a mediocre job of it, she turned and closed the door, leaving it slightly ajar as she left and heading down the hall toward her and Carl's room.

Alex stared over at the door, her thoughts swirling around in her head. Now that she was finally alone, her previous bravado and bluster - her armor and her protection - faltered. Her shoulders drooped as she leaned her head back against the wall and closed her eyes, listening to the blessed sounds of silence greeting her. It was so different than living on the streets. There, no matter what time it was, there was always a litany of sirens, voices, car horns, and other sounds she had somehow learned to drown out. She never really got a good night's sleep; if you did that, you risked being placed into all sorts of danger. Ironically, the only other time she had ever gotten a good night's sleep was in that hotel room that she had trashed afterward. If she hadn't done that, she would have been back on the streets and not here staying in this house. Was that good or bad, though? Was she giving up one sort of problem for another?

She sighed. Even when her parents were alive, it hadn't been much different. Living in a run-down, drafty rental house with them was a constant struggle for normalcy, and her parents had fought constantly - not only during the day but while she tried to sleep in her ratty semblance of a bed; a mattress on the floor, really. A stained, lumpy, and threadbare mattress. She had long ago lost count of how many times she had tried to drown out their yelling and screaming with her pillow, her hands clutching the thin, cotton lump as she hugged it over her head. It had done no good, though. Only when they were stoned would the altercations die down; at least until they ran out of money and the drugs wore off again.

The softness of the mattress underneath her now was slowly coaxing her into sleep as she finally slid down to lie flat onto the bed and pulled the covers up to her chest. Within minutes she was sound asleep, the stuffed animal clutched in her arms as she lay on her side, lightly snoring.

* * *

_Harrisburg - Tony and Fin's Home_

"Yeah, God, right there," Tony hissed as Fin pounded into him; his partner's arms were locked at the elbows as he smoothly pistoned in and out of his lover on the bed. Tony's hands slid up and down Fin's sweat-slicked back as he arched his hips to deepen the penetration. "Harder, Fin," he growled as his nails dug into the muscled flesh. "More," he demanded as his legs rose up to link behind his lover.

"Baby," Fin murmured as he began to pick up his pace and reached down to pump his lover's cock, Tony's vocal moans of appreciation increasing, signaling that he was close to climax. By now they knew each other's body language and sounds so intimately that they could almost reach inside each other's minds and hear their silent thoughts.

"Yesssss," Tony continued to hiss over and over again almost in a mantra as Fin could feel the sweet, familiar tightness coiling inside his body like a snake prepared to strike; his eyes locked on his lover's as he pushed in roughly once, twice more before Tony cried out and exploded between their bodies, his come spewing out and coating their chests. All it took were a couple more plunges inside Tony's body before Fin, too, joined him in climax, collapsing heavily down on top of him.

A few minutes later after cleaning themselves up, the two lovers lay in their favorite position, Tony half-draped over Fin's body with his head lying on his chest. He could feel Fin idly feathering the top of his head and his lover's strong heart beating beneath him. After the sex that continued even now to take his breath away, this post-coital time was his most favorite part of their day. Lately, however, these moments when they could just relish being alone with each other were extremely rare. He was intent, then, on making the most of it.

For several minutes, he just allowed himself to lie there as his own heart assumed a more normal cadence to match Fin's; he felt Fin's arm slid around his body to pull him closer as he bent his left leg at the knee and moved it to rest within the long legs of his lover's; an almost imperceptible sigh escaped between his partly-open lips as he felt Fin shift slightly beneath him.

"What is it?" he heard the whisper from above, feeling Fin's fingers still in his hair.

"Nothing," he murmured, but he knew that wouldn't appease him.

"Bullshit, Counselor," was the not-so-unexpected scolding. "I know that sound; your analytical wheels are turning again. Are you thinking about your case?"

Tony shook his head in response, his hair tickling Fin's skin as he slowly lifted his head to peer into the steel-gray eyes boring down into his. Placing his chin on top of Fin's chest, his lips twisted into a rueful shape. "Just enjoying the view," he finally replied as Fin's arm slid further around his chest; the long fingers splayed firmly against his skin.

Fin's lips curled under. "The view looks pretty damn good from up here, too," he said with a grin before his expression changed into something more serious. "What you are thinking?"

Tony stared into the eyes he knew so well - and that knew him. "The election's only a week away now; so much has changed since it all started."

Fin snorted. "That's an understatement. About the only thing that's remained the same is you and me."

"Will it?" Tony asked softly.

Fin frowned. "Will what, Baby?" he asked, his fingers lightly caressing the pale skin.

"Will we remain the same, no matter what happens?"

Fin scooted up further into the bed, pulling his partner up along with him until they were eye to eye. "What kind of question is that, Tony? Nothing's going to change between us."

Tony gave him a dubious look as he reminded him, "Fin, there's a good chance you will be governor soon."

"And? Your point is, Counselor?"

"You don't think that will change our relationship?"

"Why would it?"

Tony shook his head as he laid his hand, palm down, on Fin's taut chest and gazed into his lover's eyes. "For someone who is so intelligent, Fintan O'Connor, you sure can be naïve sometimes. When you win the election," Tony began as Fin grinned at the use of the word _when_ and not _if, _"We're going to have a lot of decisions to make."

Fin reached up to lightly rub the pad of his fingers across the full, soft lips of his partner, mesmerized as always by the expressive, blue eyes and the beautiful, classic face. Even now after all these years, this man was the most captivating male he had ever met and he could still make his heart flutter in response, just like it was doing now. He stared into Tony's eyes for a moment before he whispered firmly, "Yeah. If...okay, _when_ it happens," he corrected himself as Tony quirked an eyebrow upward at him, "you're right; there will be a lot of decisions, logistical and otherwise, that I'll have to make; that _we'll_ have to make. But there's one area that will not be in question. Nothing will change between us." He swallowed hard; just the idea of Tony not being by his side, especially after everything they had been through, was simply unfathomable to him. "Haven't you figured out by now that I can't live without you, Mr. Cassinelli?"

Tony rolled his eyes but smiled at the sentimental statement as he replied teasingly, "So melodramatic, Senator."

To his surprise, he quickly found his face cradled firmly by a pair of long-fingered hands to hold it in place. "I mean it, Tony," Fin replied in dead seriousness as he stared into his partner's eyes; his voice choked unexpectedly as he added, "Don't you realize that? Nothing else matters if you're not there with me to experience it."

"You don't mean that, Fin; not totally, anyway," Tony countered. "I know you're passionate about a _lot_ of things. I know how much being able to help your constituents means to you. I know, too, how hard you've fought to come out on top of this. Think of what you would be capable of doing from the governor's office! Politics has been your life, Fin. You could no more step aside from that than I could quit trying cases. It's in your blood."

Fin's heart skipped a beat as he stared into his partner's eyes; he knew him so well. That was one of the reasons why he loved him so much; that and much more. "Yes," he admitted. "It is a large part of who I am; who I will _always_ be." He began to slowly stroke Tony's cheek. "But I would give it all up tomorrow if you asked me to."

"You know I would never do that," Tony replied. "I would never ask you to do or be something that you weren't. Your dedication to the people you serve was one of the things that first attracted me to you." He smirked. "That and the fact that you were one of the hottest guys I had ever seen in my life. You know, you're very sexy when you get all fired up in the Senate chamber."

Fin chuckled softly. "I doubt if the Senate president would put it that way. He normally prefers to call me arrogant and narrow-minded, especially when I filibuster one of his bills he's trying to pass." He smiled tenderly at his lover as he stroked Tony's cheek with the back of his hand. "By the way, you're pretty sexy yourself when you're grilling a witness on the stand, too."

Tony smiled softly at him; his initial worries fading, but only a little. He knew Fin meant what he said, but he wasn't sure he realized just how hard it might be to follow through on his convictions. It was one thing to promise they would always stay together now as they lay in bed, savoring one of the few private times they had had the chance to enjoy lately; it was quite another situation once he was ensconced in the Governor's mansion and had to answer to the entire state of Pennsylvania, not to mention how much scrutiny he was bound to experience as the first openly gay governor of the state.

"I just don't want things to change between us, Fin," he responded with quiet seriousness. "I know once you win our lives won't be the same," he conceded. "That worries me. I don't relish the idea of us being under a constant microscope all the time."

Fin's brow furrowed. "Tony, only our residence will change, not our relationship. Yes, there will be a lot of attention thrust on me - on both of us - if I win. But what we do behind closed doors is none of their damn business. And there's no reason, by the way, why we can't still come back here on occasion to get away from all the other bullshit. I never want to give this place up; it means too much to me - to both of us. It's our sanctuary. But _you're_ my ballast; you're what keeps me sane when things get crazy. Without you..." He left the sentence unfinished; it was much too painful to even consider.

"I'm not going anywhere, Fin," Tony hastened to assure him as he rolled his and Fin's bodies so that their positions were reversed; his partner propped his longer, heavier body on his elbows as he nestled Tony's legs in between his own.

"No?" was the soft urge.

"No way," Tony confirmed as he placed his hands, palm down, on Fin's chest and stared into his partner's eyes; it was rare when he saw any sign of vulnerability in the proud, confident face of such a powerful man, but the fact that he was willing to reveal that to him made him feel so cherished. Neither of them had a crystal ball, but he did know how much he loved this man. That would have to do for now; the rest they would just have to make up as they went along. "I love you too damn much."

Fin's face broke out into a tender smile. "Not as much as I love you."

"Why don't you show me, Mr. Governor-Elect? Actions speak louder than words, especially when there's a politician involved."

Fin grinned. "Let's make that my first gubernatorial order, then. Pound lover into the mattress on a nightly basis in the governor's mansion."

"Only once a night?" Tony grunted as he caressed his partner's shoulders. His eyes twinkled, pleased to see the old, familiar gleam back in Fin's eyes. "I must be losing my touch."

Fin leered down at him. "I'll show you _touch_..." And he proceeded to demonstrate his tactile sense for the next hour until at last they both fell into a deep sleep together, temporarily forgetting what still awaited them.

* * *

_5:00 A.M. - Next Day_

A sound, appearing muffled and distant, hammered away insistently inside Alex's brain like a miniature jackhammer as she tried hard to resist it. Since she had laid her head down on her pillow last night, it had been as if she were sleeping the slumber of the dead. She had fallen asleep within a minute of closing her eyes, her anxiety over being in a new, unfamiliar place quickly superseded by the unaccustomed safety and relative luxury of her surroundings. Now, however, a persistent voice was slowly rousing her from sleep as she fought against acknowledging it.

She bolted awake, however, her heart pounding as she felt someone touching her. She shot up in bed, disoriented and frightened, as Debbie jumped back slightly in reaction.

Seeing how startled Alex was, Debbie silently cursed to herself; she should have known not to attempt to awaken her in that manner, especially in an unfamiliar place. She could recall how Ben and Michael used to tell her that Hunter had similar reactions whenever they tried to wake him by the same method. They had quickly learned to use other means to get him out of bed; it hadn't been easy, since Hunter always had been a heavy sleeper, but once they had found the 'wooden spoon against the aluminum pie pan' trick, that had worked like a charm ever since.

"Wha..? Huh?" Alex gasped out, startled, as she tried to get her bearings in the dim glow of the bedside lamp. Where was she? Her eyes swept across the bedroom, honing in on the gaudy, superhero curtains and the bulletin board plastered with photos before coming to rest on Debbie, who was sitting on the edge of the bed, and she finally realized where she was. Her heart still thudding erratically against her chest, she took a deep breath before growling, "Shit! You scar...Don't ever do that again!"

Debbie started to apologize, but then thought better of it. That was probably precisely the reaction this girl was looking for; an opening so she could close herself back up into her shell again. Well, she wasn't going to let that happen. Instead, she pursed her lips together as she informed her, "Oh, my apologies, Your Majesty. I forgot to draw your bath this morning, too." She crooked one eyebrow upward as she told her, "It's five o'clock, Princess. You have fifteen minutes to get dressed and downstairs for breakfast if you want to eat before we head to the diner." She snorted. "Trust me; you won't want to eat that shit down there." She rose from the bed, still clad in her two-piece, matching flannel pajamas and her bunny slippers; her wig, however, was already in place. After rising to go to the bathroom each morning, that was instantly the next part of her daily routine. To Debbie, not having her wig on was akin to a toothless man not wearing his dentures. "Now get your butt out of bed, Missy. We need to leave in 30 minutes; capiche? That's Italian for MOVE!"

Alex crossed her arms over her bare shoulders, suddenly feeling a slight chill in the early morning air. It was still pitch dark outside. "And what if I don't?" she argued, her mask firmly back in place.

Debbie paused by the bedroom door. "Your choice," she decided. "But if you don't, I'll just have Carl take you with him to the police station so Child Protective Services can come and haul your ass off to a foster home. If you want him to take you there in what you're wearing now, fine. But it's awfully cold out there." She glanced down at the bed and couldn't help smirking slightly at what she saw. "I see you and Chewie became acquainted last night; that used to be Michael's favorite toy as a kid when he had trouble sleeping."

Alex wrinkled her nose in dismay; had she actually been sleeping with that threadbare, stuffed animal last night? Surely not. "I don't know how that got there," she insisted, even though something told her that was a lie. Apparently Debbie wasn't buying it, either, from the amused look on her face, which just made her all that more disgusted at the thought.

"Of course not," Debbie told her with a lopsided smile. "Now get up and get dressed, Alex," she told her in a softer tone of voice just before she turned and closed the door quietly behind her.

Alex sat there in hesitation, her 'fight or flight' emotions waging a battle inside her. Even if she DID take off, where would she go? She knew nothing about this city; she could always go back out onto the streets, searching for a place to stay and scrounging for something to eat in the dumpsters that always populated larger cities in the back alleys of restaurants and gas stations. But she didn't know her way around this town, and it was black as ink outside; no doubt it was chilly as well, and all she had was her thin hoody to keep her warm. What sort of choice was that, then? At least if she played along with this flashy, brassy woman for now she would have a place to stay temporarily and no doubt plenty to eat. The woman would probably work her ass off, too, though, thanks to Kinney. But at the moment, as she glanced over at her newly-laundered clothes - her ONLY change of clothes - she decided that she could at least stand it for a few days until she could get her bearings better and develop a different plan.

Grudgingly, then, she pulled the comforter back, gasping a little as the cool morning air hit her bare skin, and shuffled over to her clothes to get dressed.

* * *

_Two and a Half Hours Later..._

The ringing of a cellphone jolted Justin out of his sound sleep as he felt Brian move slightly beside him in their bed and curse in reaction over the intrusion. "What the fuck?" he heard him mutter as Brian reluctantly dislodged himself from his husband's arms and rolled over to grab his cellphone lying on their bedside table.

His eyes still closed, he heard Brian answer his phone and knew fairly quickly who was calling.

"Mark; hey, what's up? Something wrong?"

His eyes opened then, worried that something _else_ had happened as he turned his head to meet Brian's gaze; Brian mouthed out the name _'Mark Leon' _to verify that it was, indeed, Fin's speechwriter as he reached over to lightly stroke Justin's shoulder in a silent reassurance that everything was okay before Justin heard him say, "Yeah? No shit! I'll have to check that out."

Brian smiled at him tenderly a few seconds later as he replied into the phone, "Well, that doesn't exactly surprise me; he's my own secret weapon; apparently, Fin's, too."

Justin frowned as he continued to listen to his husband's conversation with Mark until, after promising to meet up with him and Fin tomorrow in Harrisburg for a strategy meeting, Brian disconnected the call.

He scooted up higher in the bed as he asked, "What was that all about? Not more problems, I hope."

Brian leaned over to bestow a soft kiss on Justin's cheek as he nuzzled the side of his neck. "No, not that."

Justin arched his neck away from his husband's probing lips as he squirmed, placing his hand on the side of Brian's face. His heart sped up when he looked into the impish, gorgeous face staring back at him as he murmured with a smile, "Brian, stop that; you know that makes me crazy."

"Horny," was the correction against his skin as Justin sighed in pleasure as Brian grasped his cock through the thin sheet and gave it a squeeze for good measure. He was so damned predictable sometimes. "Okay, horny, too," he agreed as he felt his body tingle in arousal. He batted Brian's hand away from his dick as Brian pretended to pout. "I still...I still want to know what you and Mark were talking about," he struggled to get out. "Were you talking about me?" He was finding it a little hard to focus at the moment, though, and utter anything too intelligible; Brian had a way of driving him to distraction, just like he was doing now. He supposed that would never change; nor would he want it to.

"You might say that. Mark told me he just checked the latest polls after the debate last night," Brian murmured huskily against his husband's neck as he rained nips and kisses along the corded flesh, hearing small pants coming from his lover's parted lips. He smiled, enjoying the effect he was having on him as he added, "it seems your little speech is the talk of the town - or should I say state." He licked a trail now from Justin's neck to his jawline, heading toward lips to devour them as his morning treat, when Justin gripped his face with his hands, impeding his progress temporarily.

Brian," he moaned out. "Stop for a minute," he managed finally to say. "What do you mean? Somebody's been talking about me?"

Brian sighed; he supposed he had no one to blame but himself for mentioning it in the first place; it could have waited, but too late now. Justin wasn't the only one feeling particularly horny at the moment, however. "Somebody, Sunshine? Try _everybody._ Your name is mentioned in practically every comment on the web at the moment, at least regarding what happened last night."

"What!?" Justin exclaimed, his momentary desire for another round with his sexy lover briefly forgotten as his eyes grew large in shock.

Brian pursed his lips together ruefully. He twisted his upper body just enough to retrieve his cellphone. Justin watched silently as he brought up his web browser and began to search for the latest polls regarding his father's campaign. Finding one online article particularly laden with comments, he quickly scanned them as a grin broke out on his face. "Take a look for yourself, Mr. Celebrity."

He handed the phone to Justin as he began to read through the article first, noting it mentioned the latest poll from Gallup indicated a five percent increase in Fin's standings in the gubernatorial campaign since the last poll taken a week ago. Then as he scanned the comments underneath, his heart caught in his throat. Brian hadn't been kidding - practically every comment was in reference to his impromptu speech to his father after he had interrupted the debate between his father-in-law and Whittle. Interspersed between most of the comments was an occasional homophobic jab or two, but overall the comments were quite favorable and supportive of what he had done - and Fin's right to have the freedom to pick who to love, male or female.

"Holy shit," he exclaimed softly, his mouth agape in disbelief as he continued to scan the comments. "I had no idea..." He shook his head in amazement as he gazed over at Brian. "Why?" he asked.

Brian laughed as he gently disengaged his phone from Justin's grasp and set it back down on the night table. "Why do you think, Sunshine? You blew them away last night - not to mention you made your asshole of a father look like an even bigger homophobic prick than he already is. You opened up a lot of eyes last night, Justin, and I think a lot of people are rethinking their opinion of Fin. Maybe, just maybe, they've decided that it's more important to look at a man's character and what he stands for, rather than who he's fucking in bed at night. I think my father's record stands for itself; and maybe a lot of other people are finally figuring that out, too." He reached over to curl his hand around Justin's shoulder to pull him closer against his body. "What you did last night was worth more than all the money Fin's spent on advertising so far. We couldn't have paid enough money for what you managed to accomplish with that speech, just by being honest and speaking from your heart."

"I wasn't really thinking about what I was saying," Justin countered. "I was just so angry with him, and I couldn't let him spout such hatred and lies about Fin. He is such an honorable and compassionate man, and he deserves to be governor. He's the better candidate. What he _didn't_ deserve was to be humiliated and disparaged by my father in front of everyone. I was just trying to point out who the close-minded one was. I didn't have any hidden agenda going on." He shook his head again in shock. "I had no idea it would get all over the internet like this - and so fast." He bit his lip as he gazed over at Brian. "I thought I might have really fucked things up for Fin last night."

Brian grunted. "Not quite," he said wryly. "I think you might have just given Fin a much-needed shot in the arm. Mark was so keyed up just now over the phone; he's hoping this might just give the campaign enough momentum to push my father over the top for good." Brian laughed. "What poetic justice; I'm sure your father thought by disrupting the debate last night he would cause voters to turn away from Fin. It seems to have had the opposite effect. Your father is going to shit a brick when he finds this out, and oh, how I wish I could see his face when Fin winds up becoming Governor! Talk about a big, giant, fuck-you."

Justin couldn't help grinning a little at that idea, finding that it didn't seem to hurt quite so much now whenever his father was mentioned. Yes, he still mourned for what used to be, but it was time to move on and look forward. He had his own family now, and he still had his mother and sister. Going forward, Craig Taylor was merely going to be an unpleasant memory not worth dwelling upon. "Yeah, it would be," he agreed softly. "I'm glad it didn't hurt your father's campaign. And if it did help him to gain a bigger lead, then that's even better." He reached up to stroke Brian's cheek as he told him, "Brian, he's going to make such a difference for this state. I'm really beginning to think he just might win this."

"Might win?" his husband repeated in mock insult as he pulled back to stare into Justin's eyes. "This is MY father we're talking about here, Sunshine! Of course he's going to win!" His face lit up at the thought. "What?" he added after a few seconds, befuddled, as Justin laughed at him and shook his head in amusement.

"I'm just amazed how far you and Fin have come since you first met. If I didn't know better, I'd say you were proud of him. And your sentences are sprinkled more with 'my father' here and 'my father' there than they ever were before." Of course, he knew the truth; Brian WAS proud of Fin, and that made him happy. If nothing else came out of this whole, occasionally sordid experience, just knowing that Fin and Brian were drawing closer together as father and son as a result made everything else worth it.

Brian briefly thought about bullshitting his way through Justin's statement, but he knew that would be fruitless. For once, he found himself not quite as glib as he normally would be as he replied, "Well, uh, he has come a long way since then. Remember he wouldn't even admit he was a queer at first. Now, he's _out and proud_. So yeah, I guess I have a lot more respect for him now that's he's being honest with himself. And he IS my father and is by far the most qualified candidate; what else would I call him?"

"Well, if he's MY father, I could think of a _lot_ of other names," Justin quipped as Brian rolled his lips under in agreement. His expression changed briefly as he thought once more of how his relationship had deteriorated so irretrievably between him and his own father; a painful lump lodged in his throat despite his previous vow to not let it bother him anymore.

"Hey," was the soft response next to him as Brian grasped him under his chin. "What did you decide before?" he reminded him as his fingers lightly caressed Justin's cheek.

Justin exhaled a heavy breath between his lips as Brian used the back of his hand to stroke his face. "That I wasn't going to dwell on it anymore."

Brian nodded as he leaned in to brush his lips against his. Pulling back, he stared into his husband's eyes. "Just keep repeating it. He's not worth it, Sunshine. I'm your family now. Me, Fin, Gus; even Tony. And you are ours. That will never change."

Justin nodded, his eyes glistening. He knew that was true; he knew he would always have their love and their support, no matter what happened. A small part of him still wanted to add a little one to his and Brian's family, but he also recalled Brian's wishes not to discuss it until after the election was over. Soon, though, he knew that time would arrive. What Brian would decide, however; what they would_ both _decide, was still very much up in the air. Plus, they had the whole situation now with a certain bratty kid to resolve as well. For now, though, just knowing that he had a 'real' family that loved and valued him for who he was was enough for him. "I know," he finally whispered as he smiled tenderly at his soulmate and brushed his fingers against the back of Brian's neck, feathering the soft strands of auburn hair. "And it's what anchors me and keeps me whole." His heart swelled with emotion. "God, I love you so fucking much, Brian. More and more every day. You do know that, don't you?"

Justin could swear he saw Brian's eyes glimmering back at him as his husband nodded. It was a few seconds before he responded; before he _could_ respond, Justin suspected more accurately.

Brian slid his arms around Justin's waist, drawing him closer until he was almost sitting on his lap as he rubbed his cheek against Justin's and cradled his head in the crook of his husband's shoulder. "Yeah," he finally whispered, his lips vibrating against Justin's skin as Justin slid his own arms around Brian's waist and closed his eyes, breathing in the unique smell that was his soulmate. "Yeah, I do. And...And I, fuck, I love you, too, Justin."

They remained that way for several seconds, just breathing in his other's scent and luxuriating in their rare moment of solitude and privacy before Brian pulled back slightly to gaze into the azure eyes boring into his. Their gaze locked on each other, sharing a silent, deep bond between them, Brian quirked one side of his mouth upward before he whispered, "Let me show you how much," before he proceeded to do just that.

* * *

_A/N: Thank you to my beta, Boriqua522. Your friendship and support means so much.:)_


	34. Two Debbies?

_Alex begins her first day at the diner with Debbie; amidst some minor drama, some bonds are made in unlikely ways. The day of the election draws near._

* * *

_Liberty Diner - Morning_

Debbie glanced over at her charge, currently wearing a white apron that tied at the back of her neck and waist with a makeshift, handwritten badge that had _Alex_ scrawled in bold handwriting across the chest. Just like before when she had first set eyes upon her, Alex was wearing a gender-neutral outfit underneath her apron of a short-sleeved, gray t-shirt and the same pair of worn - but now clean - jeans that she had been wearing before. With her slight build, short hair style, and no makeup, it was still hard to tell if this "Alex" was a he or a she as the young girl struggled to carry a full load of soiled dishes toward the kitchen. Debbie hurried over to help, lifting one end of the plastic bin and helping her to set it down with a bang onto the kitchen pass-through ledge as Alex plopped down wearily into an empty booth nearby. The morning crowd had finallythinned out, so Debbie allowed her the temporary luxury of taking a break.

Alex sighed as she rubbed her sneakered feet. Debbie had been working her relentlessly from the first moment they had arrived at the diner. True to her warning, the patrons had filed in practically nonstop from the moment the place had opened. To Alex's shock, there had even been a group of five or six waiting at the door as they arrived to get in like it was some Black Friday event. Now, as she reached to wipe her sweaty brow with one end of her apron, she wondered fleetingly if living on the street would be easier.

She had to admit silently, though, that it wouldn't be nearly as colorful. Despite observing all walks of life when she had been forced to live on the street, this diner seemed to bring out the weirdness factor in droves. She had already seen one man come in wearing jeans with the ass cheeks cut out of them, another one dressed in full drag queen garb from her pink fingernails down to her glittery, silver stilettos, two leather-clad 'bears' as Debbie had called them who held hands at the counter while they drank their coffee and made goo-goo eyes at each other, and a woman with multi-colored hair - her _real_ hair, Debbie informed her - that was wearing a leather, silver-studded collar and full biker regalia.

"Are you sure the circus isn't in town this week?" she quipped as she noticed someone wearing a purple, sleeveless tunic and a pair of leatherette, lizard-skin gray pants striding in. A feather boa was tied around the tall man's neck, almost as if it were a flag of some type. He smiled over at Debbie and waved before he took his place over at one of the booths.

Debbie smacked her gum briefly, a white, damp dishtowel in her hand as she replied with a smile, "Nope, that's just Emmett; sweetest guy you would ever want to meet." She watched to make sure that he was going to be served by someone else before turning her attention back to her assistant.

"No thanks," Alex quipped dryly. "It might rub off on me."

"What?" Debbie asked. "The dress style or the sweetness? Not much chance of _that_."

Alex rolled her eyes as she idly played with the salt and pepper shakers, knocking them together like they were two play soldiers.

"Fuck, my feet are killing me," she muttered with a sigh. "How long does this chain gang detail last?"

"Until the shift's over, Hot Stuff," Debbie told her as she glanced up at the plain, round, plastic clock hanging over the door. "About four more hours."

Alex's mouth hung open. "Four _hours_? No way my feet can last that long."

Debbie whipped out her pencil from behind her ear and dropped the towel down onto the booth as she noticed a new diner entering the restaurant and heading over to the area that she and Alex had been assigned to for the day. "Don't bullshit me," she told her as she stared her down. "You're a century younger than me. Break's over; get up, Toots, and help me wait on this customer."

"What if I don't want to?" she challenged her.

Debbie eyed her carefully as the young brunet twink in the nearby booth called over to her. "I'm coming!" she groused. "Pink plate specials are on the board! None of them will kill you except for the one with the goetta! What the fuck is goetta, anyway?" she muttered under her breath as she shook her head. She turned her attention back to her young helper as she leaned over the back of the booth with her elbows. "Your choice," she told her flatly. "I'm not going to lock you in here, and I won't beg you to stay. If you really feel like it's better to take your chances out on the street, beg for food and sell your body to smelly, old perverts to stay alive, then you can walk out that door right now." Alex folded her arms across her chest and stared back at her defiantly, but Debbie thought she caught just a glimmer of hesitation in her eyes as she realized she wasn't joking. "So what's it going to be? Some sore feet that you can soak in the tub when you get back to my place, or a sore ass from sleeping on some rat-infested floor in an abandoned building? Although I DO hear that the food in the dumpster down at Leo's is pretty tasty - if you can beat the bums, drug addicts, and flies that congregate near there from beating you to it first and the sun's not been out long."

Alex harrumphed, clearly not amused. But she also knew all too well what it was like to live from day to day, not knowing where you were going to rest your head, or if the gnawing in your belly would be assuaged by a bit of food you happened to find some place later. "You're not taking me to the police if I don't cooperate?"

Debbie tried not to let that last part get to her. Hadn't this kid been through enough already? She didn't have the heart to do that, and something told her that Brian didn't, either. She knew him well enough by now - too well - to know that his bark was always a lot worse than his bite, especially once he and Justin had entered into an exclusive, committed relationship. If Brian Kinney could get _married_, then anything was possible.

"No," she finally assured her. "But if you walk out that door, you might find that the police were a better alternative."

"Can I at least get some coffee here?" the twink groused at her from across the room, interrupting their conversation.

"I said I'm COMING!" Debbie reminded the customer. "One more word and the best part of YOUR waking up will be in your damn _lap_!"

Alex finally broke into a small smile at that statement as Debbie grinned back at her. "Come on, Kiddo," she prodded her gently now. "Let's go take care of Mr. Personality."

Alex finally nodded at her as she slid out from under the booth's seat and joined her.

* * *

_Same Time - Britin_

Brian paused inside the doorway of Justin's upstairs studio, admiring his husband standing there with his back to him, one hand on his hip as he studied his latest creation. It was a decidedly somber painting - sweeping shades of midnight blue, deep purple, and streaks of white and red, no doubt influenced by the events that had transpired this past year. But as usual, while the painting was quite engrossing, the most intriguing work of art in the room was the more thoughtful one, presently clad in one of his old dress shirts, a pair of white briefs, and matching, white socks. Justin had lately taken to using Brian's old shirts for his painting. Why, when he had plenty of old denim work shirts of his own that he could use, Brian couldn't fathom. But as always he found it incredibly sexy just thinking about his husband wearing one of his shirts while he was away, and this was no exception.

Justin heard the quiet footfalls before he felt Brian's arms slide around to hold him close. He smiled. "I thought you had already left for Harrisburg."

Brian nuzzled his neck as he whispered in his ear, "You keep parading around the house like Tom Cruise, and I may never leave."

Justin shivered a little at the sultry tone in his husband's voice; he sighed in pleasure and arched his neck as Brian's lips proceeded to slide a trail from just below his earlobe down to his collarbone. "You...you have a strategy meeting with Fin this morning...," he struggled to remind him in a choked voice as Brian's hands traveled under the hem of his shirt and up to his nipples to slide his palms against the hardening peaks. Justin could feel his husband's arousal hard and sharp against his ass as he finally managed to turn around to face a pair of dark, smoky-looking eyes boring into his. He linked his hands behind Brian's neck and couldn't resist pulling his face down for a deep, prolonged kiss that lasted for several seconds until he finally broke off to whisper, "I have a painting to work on, Mr. Campaign Manager, and you have a strategy meeting with your father."

Brian groaned in frustration before nodding. "Yeah," he replied in extreme disappointment. Last night with just the two of them had been exactly what both he and Justin had needed. Between Alex, Stockwell, Justin's asshole of a father, Telson, Stewart, and Kip Thomas - not to mention Turner and his eventual demise - it had been one hell of a ride so far. A very _hectic_ ride. Would he have ever agreed to help out with his father's campaign if he had known back then what he knew now? Honestly, he wasn't sure. There _had_ been some good come out of it, though; he had to admit that it had forced him and his father to work together and draw closer as a result. But he couldn't help thinking that there had to be less stressful ways to go about it. "I'd better get going." He stole one additional, quick kiss from Justin and bit down playfully on his lower earlobe. "Don't get too dressed on my account," he whispered in Justin's ear as his husband blushed. "It'll speed things up later if you stay the way you are."

"Well, I thought I'd go into the diner for lunch and see how Alex is doing," he told him. "So perhaps at least a pair of pants might be in order."

"You sure you want to subject yourself to that?"

"No," Justin answered honestly. "But I still feel a little bad about how we sort of dumped her on Debbie. I figure the least I can do is show up and help save her if necessary."

"Which one?" Brian quipped as he turned to go.

Justin grinned. "Good point." He drunk in the enticing sight of his husband, clad in casual business attire for his meeting with Fin and his staff: an open-collared, black satin shirt with subtle, white pinstripes, a pair of crisply pleated black linen pants, and shiny, black leather shoes. As always, his gorgeous husband was dressed impeccably and it took his breath away.

"I'm glad you approve, Sunshine," Brian murmured as Justin's face warmed over being caught. "Later," he said with a raised eyebrow and a smirk as he turned around and quietly departed.

Justin grinned before turning around to resume his painting.

* * *

_Two Hours Later - Harrisburg_

"Brian," Fin called over to his son as he heard the front door of his headquarters opening. "Come and see this!" he added as he waved him over, unable to hide the animation in his voice. Brian walked over and casually looked over his father's shoulder, placing a hand on Fin's collarbone to peer at his laptop that showed the latest results of a poll conducted that morning by one of the most reputable companies in existence; one that was consistently accurate in their projections. "Look!"

Brian scanned the results from the polling company, confirming what one of the other polls had indicated earlier back at Britin: it indicated a present lead of five percentage points over his father's opponent, Dean Whittle. It was a promising sign so close to Election Day, but not a slam dunk. This particular poll had a spread of at least plus or minus three percentage points, so the race was still very close. "Promising," he agreed with a tight smile. "But not definitive enough," he decided as Fin reluctantly agreed with a nod.

"Yeah, I was afraid you were going to say that," he replied ruefully. "But all the other polls show us with a lead, too. It's a hopeful sign at least, don't you think?"

Brian walked around to settle into one of the hard, plastic chairs set up for volunteers, straddling his legs to either side as he reminded those gathered there, "We can't let our guard down now. This is the last week before the election. We need to keep hammering the voters and keep your name out in the public's eye to keep the momentum going."

Fin nodded as he gazed over at his most trusted advisors. "Suggestions for the last big rush before next Tuesday, gentlemen?"

"We've got some print and media ads in _USA Today_ and all the large Pennsylvania papers reserved for the next few days, along with some radio and television spots," Kirk, his speechwriter, informed him. "But without Turner's ineptness in the race anymore to use as a critical marketing strategy, we'll have to take a different angle. Whittle is just too damned vanilla to invoke any _real _drama." He peered over at Brian, seeming a little uncomfortable as he added, "I'd like to include some excerpts from last night's debate - along with what your son-in-law said to his asshole of a father. That generated a great deal of positive buzz. I'd like to take advantage of our momentum while we're hot and highlight that in the ads."

Fin looked over at his son, noticing his jaw set and his lips pressed tightly together. "I don't know about that," he began, feeling a sense of wrongness about the whole idea.

"But this is a golden opportunity to gain a permanent lead," Kirk insisted as the others glanced over uneasily at father and son, trying to gauge their reaction. "A five-point lead can disappear in a heartbeat. One wrong word - one misunderstood comment or even a hint of scandal of any kind - and our lead goes up in a ball of flame and we're back to a dead heat."

Fin harrumphed softly. "Aren't you being just a little melodramatic here, Kirk?" He twisted slightly around to glance back over at Brian, who had remained oddly silent. His face was unreadable at the moment; that was one of the things he was still trying to learn to do - become familiar enough with his son to figure out what Brian was thinking before he said anything. "Brian? What are your thoughts on this? How would Justin feel about using what happened last night to influence voters who might still be on the fence?"

Brian silently pondered that question. Personally? The idea of taking advantage of his husband's difficulties with his father left a distinct, sour taste in his mouth. Justin had endured enough heartbreak and strife over the years regarding his father and other homophobic bigots to last a lifetime already. And despite the unintentional notoriety that pursued him at times, in reality Justin was a very private person. He didn't _like_ to be in the spotlight, at least not for events such as what occurred last night.

He had to admit, though; there _would_ be a good reason politically speaking to take advantage of it. Justin was a very powerful, effective speaker against just the kind of irrational people that opposed Fin. He was a clear symbol, too, of just how hateful and unreasonable homophobes could be. What Justin said always came from the heart, and from painful, personal experience. That could be an extremely powerful marketing ploy, whether you were selling advertising or trying to elect a candidate who could be considered controversial. But was it worth it?

"Kinney? What about it?" Kirk pressed as Brian turned to peer over at him. In the time they had worked together, he had found the man efficient enough. Not exactly someone he could warm up to, but he did seem devoted to his father and was tenaciously loyal to him and what he stood for. His father could do a lot worse - all they had to do was look at Stewart and how that had turned out. But the man was just a tad too overeager for his taste - and not very tactful, either.

"Well, it would be up to Justin to decide that," he finally told him. "I can't make that decision." He paused for a moment before adding, "But I suspect if he thought it would benefit Fin's campaign and tip the scales in his favor, he would agree to it." Silently, though, Brian wished that weren't true. But Justin always _had _been strong, and he firmly believed in Fin and the conviction that he was the ideal candidate to be the next governor.

Kirk huffed in irritation. "What _are_ you, some little housewife? You're the campaign manager here, Kinney! Just make a decision and be done with it so we can move on."

The others gasped at Littleton's impertinence as Brian glared over at him. "This isn't some paid actor you're asking to use in a commercial, Littleton; it's my _husband_! And he has been through more in the last several years than most people experience in a lifetime! So just shut the fuck up. You have NO idea."

Kirk shook his head in disgust as he turned to appeal to his boss. "Fin..."

"Well, I WILL make a decision on his behalf," Fin spoke up firmly as Brian's mouth hung open in surprise. _What the hell? Was he going to countermand him?_

Fin eyed his speechwriter without blinking. "If exploiting Justin's encounter with his prick of a father last night means the difference between me winning this election or not winning, then I didn't have much leverage to begin with, did I? That wouldn't say much for my campaign - or my service record. Nor would it be much of a testimonial to all the hard work that I've accomplished over the past twenty years in the Senate, would it? So the answer is no. No amount of temporary gain is worth that, nor is subjecting my son-in-law to more intense, unwanted scrutiny. So the idea is off the table permanently as of right now...you got it?"

Kirk silently seethed in resentment as he gave Brian a sideways glance to see if he was smirking at him in triumph; all he could see registered on his face, however, was apparent surprise, along with something else, perhaps. Pride? Appreciation? Respect? Whatever it was, he knew this was a battle that he wasn't going to win. He was unable to resist one last jab, however, as he advised Fin, "Yeah, I got it. I just hope this doesn't doom the election as a result."

Fin huffed in anger. "Kirk, _enough_!" he sternly admonished him as the other staff members peered over at him in silent support of their candidate, making his face flush over the attention. "Are you with me or not? If you're going to argue the decisions that both I and my son make, then perhaps you need to go back to the office and recuse yourself from my campaign. Is that what you want?"

Kirk pursed his lips tightly together before grudgingly maintaining, "No, I support you, Senator, you know that."

Fin nodded in acknowledgement then, directing his attention back to Brian and the others gathered around him. "Okay, then...let's see what we can come up with for the final push." Brian's eyes locked on his father as he gave him a slight nod of gratitude. Fin quietly placed his right hand on his son's shoulder as he told his staff, "We're going to WIN this campaign."

A few minutes later, the group was deeply engrossed in what would be their last, most important strategy plan.

* * *

_Liberty Diner - Late Morning_

Justin paused just inside the interior of the diner as the bell dinged above him, taking a moment to go back in time to when he was working there. It brought back a few painful moments, certainly, particularly during that awful part of his life when he and Brian were separated, but for the most part the place always engendered warm, happy memories. Even though it had been years now since he had worked there, the place seemed to be stuck in a time warp. Except for a new items on the menu in keeping with the times - sweet potato fries along with the typical, more starchy ones, quiche for breakfast, and some varieties of cupcakes for dessert - pretty much everything else was essentially much the same. The same, glass-topped dome holding the diner's precious lemon bars dusted with confectioner's sugar, the same, battered blackboard advertising the day's "Pink Plate Specials" (although they never HAD been served on 'pink plates,' according to Debbie), and the same, diverse variety of patrons representing all walks of life - businessmen here for lunch, twinks head-over-heels in lust in the corner booth, oblivious to everyone else, mothers with their babies, proudly showing off their latest photos to anyone who would indulge them, and fashion queens with their quirky sense of style. It always felt like home in a way whenever he visited here, and today was no exception.

He smiled over at Danny, the newest cook Deb had recruited fresh out of culinary school. The young man who had just earned his degree from the local career center was still wet behind the ears, but he had an amazing ability to whip up meals in no time and an almost photographic memory that served him well when things were going crazy at the diner. Justin suspected the boy wouldn't stick around too long once he found something better - he was much too talented for this sort of establishment - but for now he helped to maintain a little more sanity around the place, as well as a inject just a little class. Danny nodded over at him and waved as he glanced around the room to see if he could spy Alex. Even in the fairly busy crowd, it didn't take long for him to find her within a few seconds - by hearing, though, not by sight.

"These fries are fucking _cold_!" he heard a deep voice grousing from the back of the room. He could see Alex standing there next to a big, burly bear with a leather cap on his head and a bristled, bushy beard; there was another skinnier-looking man in similar garb sitting across from him in the booth. "Is it asking too much to have my food HOT by the time it gets here? Or is that too _hard_ for you?" He picked up the plate of fries and dropped it down onto the booth's table in disgust as it hit with a loud clatter. "What a fucking moron!"

Justin lifted an eyebrow curiously as Alex's face smiled back sweetly at the man; that was not the reaction he would have expected from her. He soon found out why, however, as her voice grew increasingly louder as she replied, "No, it's not hard at all. Here; let me show you what HARD is!" And with that, he observed the thin waif of a girl take the black, oval, plastic tray she had clutched in her hand and give the man a firm whack on the top of his head with it.

Justin's eyes widened in disbelief as the man's face turned beet red and his mouth fell open in shock. Even from several feet away, he could see a vein pop out on his neck. "Why, you little _bitch_!" he roared as Justin broke out of his temporary frozen state to begin hurrying to her defense. He found out that he didn't have to bother, however, as Debbie came rushing over as if out of nowhere to intercede for her before the man had a chance to slide out from the booth.

Rather than shrinking away from him in fear, Alex folded her arms across her chest and glared at him defiantly as Debbie placed her hand on the man's upper arm and pushed against him to hold him in place. "Don't you even think about it, Tank!" she growled like a mother lion defending her cub. "You were being an asshole to her and you know it!" Her breaths came out in short puffs of anger as she forcibly shoved the man back down onto his vinyl seat; everyone's head turned to see what the commotion was all about. "I would have done more than she did if _I _had served you," she muttered as Justin came up and stood next to her. She turned as her face broke out into a pleased smile. "Why, hello, Sunshine," she greeted Justin affectionately in a completely different tone of voice as he grinned back at her. "Have a seat at the counter, Honey; I'll be right there," she told him as her voice grew hard again, "...after I handle our _Customer of the Year_ here!"

Turning to look at the muscular bear now glaring up at her, she waggled one red-lacquered fingernail at him as she told him, "Now apologize to this girl! Or I'll send you up the street to that greasy spoon you're always complaining about that gives you ulcers!"

"But..."

"You heard me!" she scolded him like he was a little boy. "You know she didn't hurt your thick skill under that cap. Now DO it!"

He rolled his eyes and huffed at her for several seconds before he let out a deep breath. "Sorry," he finally grumbled under his breath.

"Excuse me? I don't think I heard that."

Tank shook his head in disgust. "I said...I'm SORRY! There...Are you happy now, Debbie?"

She smiled at him. "Yeah...delirious," she quipped. "Now keep that lard ass in your seat and I'll go get another batch of fries."

The man nodded at her sheepishly as Debbie turned to peer over at Alex, who had been silently watching the entire drama unfold with a mixture of both surprise and grudging respect. "Go on," she pressed her quietly as she heard the telltale sound of the bell dinging over at the kitchen pass-through. "There's a pick up ready; go take care of it, okay?" She glared down at the now recalcitrant man as she added, "And I'LL take care of THIS one."

Alex stared at her for a few seconds before she nodded and turned to do as Debbie instructed. On the way back from the table where she had just served a diner the pink plate special of a ham on rye and steak fries, she observed Justin now sitting at a stool at the counter and walked over to him. "Just what are YOU doing here, anyway?" she asked him suspiciously. "Checking up on me?"

Justin thought about being sarcastic and just saying he was there because he was hungry and it was a dining establishment, but he figured this streetwise kid would see right through that, so he merely chose to reply with the truth. "Something like that," he admitted. "But I figured Debbie had everything under control." He turned his scuffed, ivory-colored coffee mug over onto a matching saucer and reached for the ever-present coffee pot warming on the burner nearby to pour himself a cup before placing it back down.

"That's stealing, you know," Alex told him pointedly. She scowled in disapproval as Justin began to laugh.

"Since when did YOU get to be so righteous?" he teased her before explaining, "I used to work here. Don't worry, Deb won't mind. She knows to put it on my tab."

The diner's traffic considerably less hectic than before as one of the other waitresses returned from her break, Alex took advantage of the situation to slide onto the seat beside him as she wiped her hands on her apron. Since she had first walked in this morning, she had felt greasy, either from the eggs, the hash browns, the French fries, or the burgers, and she was constantly trying to clean it off. She scrunched up her nose in disbelief. "You used to work here? I would think you were too high-and-mighty for that."

Justin laughed. "High and mighty? Hardly. What do you mean by _that_?"

"Debbie said..."

"Mrs. Novotny..."

"_Debbie_, as she told me to call her," Alex advised Justin stiffly, "told me what a hoity-toity artist you are, and how your paintings sell for thousands of dollars. So why would you need to work _here_? And your _husband_," she said the word rather disdainfully - Justin wasn't sure if it was a tacit disapproval of their lifestyle or she was just irritated with Brian making her work there - "he certainly dresses up awful fancy. Doesn't look like either one of you are hurting for money."

Justin shook his head and sighed before explaining, "Yes, I've been very fortunate with my career lately; my style of painting seems to be in favor right now, just like styles of furniture come and go. So yes, they sometimes do sell for a lot of money. And Brian always has been the best at what he does." Alex snorted at that comment, but Justin chose to ignore it. "But it wasn't too long ago that I wasn't unlike _you_."

Alex snickered loudly. "Really...," she replied dryly.

"Yeah..._Really_. I was more or less kicked out of my house when I was seventeen and had pretty much nowhere to go. If it hadn't been for Debbie taking me in - and Brian for a little while - I would have been out on the streets just like you were."

"Why?" Alex couldn't help asking as she idly played with a straw lying on the counter.

"Because my father found out I was gay," he told her, a catch in his throat. Even now, even after everything, it was still painful. _Would it ever be any different_, he wondered? "He couldn't accept me for who I was. I was his _dirty little secret_ that was going to bring shame down onto the family, and I refused to keep quiet and hide it." He inhaled a deep breath and let it out before adding, "It wasn't too long after that happened that my parents got divorced. My dad eventually got remarried and pretty much wrote me off as ever being his son; that is, unless he was busy having me arrested outside his store for picketing, or trying to tell a national audience how I was going to burn in hell over my disgusting lifestyle."

Alex listened intently to Justin, her impression of his changing somewhat. Apparently his life hadn't been a bed of roses, either. "At least you had a home until you were almost an adult," she insisted softly as she glanced down at the counter.

"Yeah," Justin agreed as he stared over at how thin and slight she was for a kid her age. He wondered fleetingly what all she had experienced on her own - plus what she must have endured when she was living with two druggie parents. At least his mother and father had never traveled down that road; and he had to admit, up until his father had so callously tossed him aside like the weekly trash, he had had a lot of privileges most children his and Molly's age couldn't imagine. "Alex..." he begun softly. But he never got to finish his thought as Debbie walked up to reach down and hug him tightly from behind.

"I'm so glad to see you, Sunshine!" she exclaimed as she gave him a kiss on the cheek before letting him go and reaching over to wipe some of her lipstick off. "We really didn't get much of a chance to talk last night."

"No..." he agreed with a smile. He was about to ask her how Alex had been doing this morning, but was interrupted once more by Debbie's bellowing voice as she sniffed the air. "Shit! What is burning back there? Danny, what's going on?"

"Danny's on break, Deb," Carlos called back to her from behind the griddle. "I...I sort of left the pot roast in the oven too long."

"Oh, my God!" she growled as shook her head in disgust. "A $12.00 pot roast up in smoke; literally! We'll catch up later, Sunshine," she told Justin who nodded in amusement. "And you," she said, looking at Alex. "Break time's over, kiddo. Come with me - and grab that air freshener under the counter." She shook her head in disbelief. "Shit," she muttered as she scurried toward the kitchen and, flinging the swinging pair of double doors open, rushed inside. Justin watched in surprise as Alex did as Debbie asked a few seconds later without complaint, sliding off the vinyl counter seat next to him before walking around to snag a can of air freshener from underneath the counter on the opposite side.

Alex peered back at him for a few seconds - almost challenging him to tease her about what she was doing or make some snarky comment - before she rushed back toward the kitchen to join Debbie.

* * *

_Later that Evening at Britin..._

"Now this is a moment worthy of the first landing on the moon..."

Justin lifted his gaze to eye Brian curiously from across the dining room table. "Huh?"

Brian nodded his head toward the almost full plate of linguini that his husband had been pushing around with his fork for the past several minutes. "Justin Taylor-Kinney...leaving food on his plate." Brian knew something was definitely wrong when, instead of a tongue-in-cheek 'fuck you,' Justin sighed as he pushed his plate away instead. He frowned.

"What's wrong?" he asked softly. "You've been way too quiet ever since I got home." The fact was, Brian always looked forward to returning to his husband; Justin's almost non-stop chatter about what had happened during the day - along with his incessant questions about how Brian had fared with the latest drama involving his father's campaign - was one of the things that kept him grounded and felt normal; he would even go so far as to say he enjoyed it. "Justin?" he pressed.

"I went to the diner today."

Brian's eyebrows rose in question. "Yeah, I remember you saying you were going to do that. So...You gorged on the Pink Plate Special and now you can't eat one more bite? That never stopped you before," he teased him, rolling his lips under playfully. He didn't get the expected smile in return, however. "What? That bratty kid didn't give you a hard time, did she?"

Justin shook his head. "No. But I DID have a talk with her. Some asshole was harassing her over getting his food delivered cold. Called her a fucking moron, among other things."

Brian winced; there was no love lost between him and Alex, but even to him that was harsh. "Ouch. What happened?"

Justin couldn't help smiling a little in recollection. "She hit him over the head with one of the serving trays, and then the REAL enforcer took over; Debbie came to her rescue and made the man apologize to her."

Brian chuckled. "I'll _bet_ she did." He reached over to grasp Justin's hand. "So what did the two of you talk about?"

"Well, I realized we actually had a few things in common." Brian wisely chose to remain silent as he explained, "All this time she thought I had never had to struggle to get where I am; that everything was handed to me lock, stock, and barrel. Debbie had told her how much some of my paintings have sold for lately. She was surprised to find out that I used to work at the diner, though, after I had nowhere to go - just like her. I told her how Debbie had taken me in, and how I could have been homeless just like she had been if it hadn't been for her - and for _you_," he added softly. "I think that shocked her."

Brian stroked the hand underneath his as he replied, "I guess it would have. All she's seen is the success you are now; not the courage and perseverance it took for you to get there."

Justin nodded. "Brian..."

"Yeah?"

"I actually felt sorry for her. At least with me - until my father decided that I was a pervert and not worthy of his attention or his love anymore - I had grown up very comfortably. This girl sounds like she's had a rough time practically since the moment she was born. At least my parents didn't spend all their time shooting up drugs or dragging me from place to place when they got thrown out of whatever hell hole they were living in. I have a feeling this girl has seen way too much in the short time she's been on this Earth."

Brian gave Justin's hand a brief squeeze before letting it go. "I imagine she has." He grimaced. "But she has a strange way of showing her gratitude."

Justin nodded. "Maybe. But I remember after the assault, I did something similar."

Brian knitted his eyebrows together. "What are you talking about, Sunshine?"

"You remember when my mom let me come and stay with you after she tried to keep us apart?"

Brian nodded; he remembered it all too well. It had taken him by surprise, too, at the time, over how much it had hurt thinking he might never see Justin again after that. But Jennifer's well-meaning desire to protect her son had been short-lived - and short-sighted. Because as much as Jennifer had hated to admit it at the time, he had been her last, best hope of finding any semblance of what her son used to be. He, alone, had been the only one who could get through to Justin - and the only one that Justin had trusted at the time to bring him back from his despair. The only one that he would even allow to touch him. For just a brief second, Brian pondered how his life would have been vastly different if he HAD followed his mother-in-law's wishes and never seen Justin again. So many things he treasured in his life now would never have happened - and his life would be so much emptier, too...

"Of course I do," he responded softly as Justin nodded.

"Well, you know all about the nightmares when I came to stay with you." When Brian nodded back at him, he explained, "What you probably _don't_ know - unless Mom told you - was that I had the same nightmares at home, too. Even worse than with you. Nightmares so bad that my mom would hear me all the way down the hall and come rushing into my room to try and help me." He sucked in a breath, the episodes still all too vivid even now. He quirked one side of his mouth up ruefully. "Only I didn't _want _her help. Back then, I felt like my world was over. I couldn't work on my art; I could barely even grasp a brush in my hand. I had all this bottled-up anger and frustration inside. And the only way I knew how to express it was by throwing things and lashing out at anything and anyone that would let me."

Brian reached over to clasp Justin's hand again for support as he told him, "I had one particularly bad nightmare one night. I kept dreaming over and over again that I went downstairs to answer the front door, thinking it was you coming to see me. Only it wasn't you; it was _him._ And...he had this big, smug grin on his face..." He shuddered at the recollection.

"Justin..."

"It's okay," he answered in response to Brian's voice edged with concern. He gave Brian a reassuring smile as he continued, "After that nightmare, my mom came into the room to make sure I was okay." He paused for a moment. "I repaid her concern by jumping out of bed and throwing everything in sight across the room - my easel, my books, my lamp, my sketchbooks; anything I could get my hands on." He closed his eyes for a second and opened them back up before admitting painfully, "Even _her_." He took a deep breath. "I could have really hurt her, Brian. I actually _shoved_ her up against the wall so hard in my attempt to get away from her - from that vision in my head - that she stumbled and almost fell. She was so frightened of me at the time that she told Molly, who was standing in the doorway, to go back to her room." He shook his head in disgust. "I can't believe how angry I was then." He exhaled a deep breath, taking comfort in the firm but gentle strength of Brian's hand clasping his. "But maybe I can understand just a little bit now why Alex did what she did. It doesn't justify it - but it might explain it just a little, though. I don't think it had anything to do with her trying to cause trouble for you. I don't think she was thinking of you - or the consequences - at all. I think something triggered what she had bottled up inside and that was the only way she could let it out."

Brian stared over at the beautiful, expressive blue eyes of the man he loved, and wondered, not for the first time, how even now he didn't know everything about him. Kip - and Justin's role in preventing him from suing his ass off - had been a major surprise a few weeks ago. But this was a revelation as well. It seems that Justin understood exactly how Alex had felt after all. And for the first time, Brian began to understand just a little bit about it, too. He squeezed Justin's hand. "You're really something," he told him softly as Justin warmed over the compliment.

"Well, I'm not condoning what she did," he explained as Brian nodded. "She still needs to make amends to you. But...What are we going to do with her, Brian?"

Brian sighed. "I don't know at this point. But I think Debbie's just what she needs right now. If anyone can keep her in line - and find out everything about her, from her shoe size down to her life from the moment of conception - it's her." Justin grinned and nodded as Brian glanced over at his husband's still mainly uneaten dinner. "Not going to eat anymore?" Justin shook his head as Brian let go of his hand and walked around the table to extend his own hand downward. "Let's take our wine to the study, then."

"But..."

"The dishes can wait, Princess," he teased him. "Come on. _You're_ what I need right now."

Justin gazed up at him lovingly as he scooted back from his place at the table and, grabbing his wine goblet, reached to take Brian's hand in his as they walked down the hall and into the study.

* * *

A few minutes later, they were lying lengthwise on the couch, Justin's smaller frame nestled in the V of Brian's legs, their twined hands clasped across Justin's chest. Their wine temporarily forgotten on the coffee table nearby, Brian finished up telling Justin what had happened earlier at the strategy meeting.

"I was going to leave the decision up to you," Brian explained softly, his breath warm against Justin's cheek. "But that was when Fin decided for me otherwise."

Justin twisted his head just enough to look into Brian's eyes. "Were you upset by that? That he took that decision out of your control?"

"To be honest? No. I was actually relieved; I didn't feel it was my right to make the choice for you, but at the same time I didn't like the idea of exploiting what happened to you, either." He rubbed his cheek against Justin's, feeling the slightly stubbled skin under his touch as he admitted, "I was fucking proud of Fin standing up to Kirk like he did." He paused for a moment before adding, "He thinks a lot of you, Justin."

Justin's eyes closed as he leaned back against Brian's chest; he always felt so protected and loved in Brian's arms. "I feel the same way," he told him softly. "I think a lot of him, too - and Tony." He let out a deep breath. "This campaign has been one hell of a journey, hasn't it?"

"Yeah," Brian whispered back as he gripped Justin a little tighter; almost as if he were trying to keep him safe from anything the world would throw at them. How he wished he could.

"I'm glad you and your father have become closer, Brian...Are you?" was the whispered question.

Brian thoughtfully rubbed the top of Justin's hands with his fingers before he admitted, "Yeah. I don't think we'll ever be the poster boys for Father and Son of the Year. But yeah, he's a pretty good guy, I guess."

Justin smiled; that was probably as glowing a review as he would get. "Yeah, he and Tony _both_ are." He blew out another breath between his lips and groaned softly.

"Tired?"

In response, Justin snuggled deeper into Brian's embrace. "A little," he admitted. "But I'm good right where I am." _And I always will be as long as we're together,_ he couldn't help thinking.

Brian pulled Justin even closer against him as he murmured, "Me, too." A few minutes later, he could hear Justin's soft pants of breath and his chest rising and falling regularly against his hands, telling him that he had fallen asleep. Smiling wistfully, he just lay there, relishing the silence and the feeling of holding the man he loved in his arms, safe and sound.

* * *

_Tuesday - Election Day Morning_

"Tony...Tony...Come on, wake up." He gave the warm, bare shoulder a slight nudge, but all Fin received was a grunt in return from the mass of blond hair lying face down on the pillow next to him. He shook his head in amusement; Tony always had been the harder one to wake up. "Tony, you're going to be late for work; get that hot little ass out of bed."

In response, Tony blindly reached out to find the thin, Sateen sheet covering him from the torso down and raised it over his head to cover himself fully as Fin chuckled. Well, at least he knew his partner had full command of his senses. Perhaps it was time for _him_ to take command as well. There was more than one way to wake someone up - and reap some of the benefits, also. He reached to pull the slate gray sheet down Tony's body until it was bunched up just below his finely-shaped ass before he trailed the tips of the fingers of his right hand down the middle of Tony's back, admiring the curve of his buttocks as he moved further down to dwell at the cleft just above his ass. Smirking, he firmly but gently clasped both cheeks with his hands, and licking his lips, tentatively poked just the tip of his tongue inside the inviting hole practically winking back at him.

He heard a moan in reaction as, encouraged, he pulled the cheeks apart a little more and then prodded the pucker even further, curling his flattened tongue for effect as he penetrated deeper, inhaling a breath as his nose was assailed with the unique scent of his lover.

"Finnnnnn," was the breathy sigh at last as Tony lifted his head ever so slightly. "Keep going. God, that feels so good...If this is a dream, don't wake me up."

Fin snickered softly. "Well, if it IS a dream, Counselor, it's going to be the best damn one you've ever had," he promised as he began to lick, suck, and nip at the soft, wrinkled flesh.

Tony moaned loudly in appreciation as he clutched the fitted sheet tightly in his fisted hands, feeling his desire building. It always amazed him how quickly Fin could accomplish that, particularly considering he had been in a semi-comatose state when his partner had started. He began to squirm slightly on the bed, trying to gain some friction for his awakening cock as Fin's ministrations sped up in earnest. "Fuck...Fin...Shit..." He soon became a writhing mess, his nerve endings on fire as Fin kept probing deeper and deeper. "Fin...No...Stop; want you inside me," he managed to gasp out, knowing if his partner didn't cease right then and there he would come all over their brand new sheets and feel like some impetuous, out-of-control teenager. "Please..."

He almost cried in relief as Fin stopped his torture and helped to flip him over onto his back; his cock lay hard now, leaking and pulsing against his belly as Fin stared into the bottomless, dark-blue eyes. "I _thought_ that might wake you up," he teased him as Tony glared at him.

"Enough! Will you just hurry up? This is worse than one of your filibusters!" he complained as Fin grinned down at him smugly. Tony's eyes followed Fin's movements as his partner reached over to slide open the nearby nightstand drawer to retrieve a small, plastic tube of self-heating lube. Biting his lip in anticipation, he impatiently waited for Fin to liberally coat his cock with the liquid before he wantonly arched his body upward in a not-so-subtle invitation to proceed.

"I always knew lawyers were impatient," Fin scolded him as he abruptly pinched his partner's left nipple.

"Hey! I didn't start this! I was trying to sleep here!"

"Well,_ Mr. Hot Shot Attorney_, I was trying to do you a favor and wake you up so you wouldn't be late!"

"Aaargh!" was the strangled growl. "What kind of partner do you think I _am_? I took today off because of your election! Now get on with it, damn it!"

Fin laughed. "My _pleasure_," he told him, his voice low and throaty. Taking just a few seconds to slather a little more lube over his shaft, he dropped the tube onto the mattress and lined himself up with Tony's hole before, grasping his thighs, he pressed partly inside, hearing an answering hiss from below. He waited just a second before he heard Tony whisper, "Move, Fin," before he pushed all the way in, a hum of appreciation escaping his lips as he marveled at the hot silkiness he found inside. Tony had the most wondrous ass, so tight and deep and perfect, even after all the times they had fucked. He leaned down to pepper some light kisses on Tony's face and neck as his hands held onto his upper arms and he began to plunge in and out in earnest now, Tony's legs coming up to lock around his waist to pull him in closer.

"Fuck, you feel so good," Fin murmured as he picked up his pace, Tony's eyes now wide open and dark-filled with lust as he rose each time to meet Fin's thrusts.

"God, I love you!" Tony called out hoarsely as he felt his body begin the climb to its highest level of pleasure. Fin reached down to begin stroking Tony's cock, squeezing it firmly in time with their bodies' movements, faster and faster, as he felt Tony's anal muscles clenching around him. A few seconds later, he felt his partner shudder under his touch and he climaxed, his come spurting out to generously coat their bodies as he uttered a loud cry of Fin's name. Fin pistoned smoothly in and out a few more times before he, too, exploded inside his partner almost violently, falling down on top of Tony's smaller frame in sweaty exhaustion afterward.

"What a way to wake up," he heard Tony's lips say against his face several seconds later as he laughed, his head nestled in the crook of Tony's neck.

He lifted his head slightly to peer into the mischievous-looking blue eyes and grinned, struggling to regain his breath; Tony could more than keep up with him in the lovemaking department. "Oh, you...you like it now, do you? You were complaining earlier about...about me disturbing your beauty sleep."

"I don't _need_ 'beauty sleep,' Senator," he told him with a sly grin. "I'm already the younger, more beautiful one, remember? I have the beauty, you have the...well, I'm sure there's _something_ I can think of later that you excel in over me."

Fin snorted. "Smart ass. Just remember you just got fucked by the next Governor of Pennsylvania. I imagine no one else has ever had that honor; well, at least a male, anyway," he amended with a smile as Tony smirked. He brushed some damp hair back from his lover's forehead as he reluctantly twisted his body off Tony's to turn onto his side and face him, his elbow propping up his head as he stared over into the paler, sheen-covered face; it was a face that showed a few wrinkles now around the eyes, and his blond hair had a few specks of gray in it now, but he was still the most enchanting man Fin had ever seen.

"_Almost_ Governor," Tony reminded him as he turned his head to return his gaze. He smiled at him tenderly as he reached over to clasp Fin's hand in his and lay them on top of his chest. "But I have no doubt that by the end of the night I will be calling you _Governor-Elect _O'Connor." He lifted their twined hands to brush his lips across Fin's knuckles. "I'm so fucking proud of you, Fin."

Fin's face dissolved into something tender, his heart openly exposed now. "That works both ways, you know," he told him softly. He let go of Tony's hand to brush the back of his own hand across Tony's cheek before he let out a deep breath. "Since I have a last-minute meeting with Brian and the rest of my campaign staff later this morning - and you got me all sweaty and sticky now," he added as Tony rolled his eyes at him, "I suggest we go take a shower. No sense in wasting water during a drought season."

Tony frowned. "Fin, it's November, and it just snowed the other day. There IS no drought."

Fin grinned as he twisted to rise from the bed, taking one last appreciative look at his partner's naked form. _God, he loved it when Tony looked totally debauched and fucked like he did now_! He could feel his cock twitching in response as he seemed to look at Tony aghast. "No? You mean all this time we could have been showering apart?"

Tony climbed from the bed, the sheet falling down onto the floor as he walked over to his partner and promptly slapped him on the chest. "No, I don't think so..._Senator_."

Fin laughed as he pulled Tony flushed against him and kissed him deeply. Pulling back slightly, he gazed into his partner's eyes. "Wouldn't think about it," he whispered softly with a smile. He stole one last kiss from his lover's lips before he slid his arm around Tony's waist. "Come on - time to go get ready to face our public - _together_."

Tony's face broke out into a radiant smile as he nodded, the two of them walking hand in hand toward the master bedroom.

* * *

_Thank you as always to my beta as well as to my friend, Boriqua522.:) _


	35. Tony and Fin's Love Story

_On the Eve of Election Day, Tony tells Justin how he and Fin met. Alex continues to bond with Debbie, but what will be her ultimate fate? _

* * *

_Election Morning - Britin_

Wakefulness came in the form of a jarring reality for Brian as the nightstand clock bleated incessantly next to his head. Lying on his back, he groaned as he stretched his hand out to punch the top of the clock to silence the cacophony, noticing it was a little past 7:00 a.m. It was finally the day he and his father had been waiting for: Election Day, aka Do or Die Day. They would have one shot today to elect him; one day for the voters to decide if they would do the right thing and elect the man best qualified for the job while disregarding the totally irrevelant issue of his sexual orientation. So many months of political gerrymandering, maneuvering, complicity, ups and downs, and just plain dirty politics, and it all came down to this one day.

Lifting his head slightly, he smiled at the crown of tousled, blond hair fanned out on his chest as his arm curled around Justin's slender back. He heard his husband snoring lightly against his skin, and felt the soft puffs of breathing between his parted lips. He hated like hell to have to rouse him, but he had a meeting with his father at 11:00 at campaign headquarters; he would barely have enough time to get dressed, drive to the airport, and fly out on his private jet to reach Harrisburg in time. There was no way with their legs tangled together - and his husband's arm flung across his belly - that he could possibly slide out from under him.

So with some regret he reached down to lightly shake Justin's shoulder, hearing a slight moan of protest in response. He grinned; Justin still wasn't much of a 'morning person.' "Sunshine..."

"Hmmm..."

Brian's fingers caressed the soft, creamy-colored skin. "I have to get up and take a shower."

"...too early..."

Brian sighed. If only he had enough time, he could wake his lover up the 'proper' way. But today that was a luxury he did not have.

He leaned down to kiss Justin's forehead tenderly. "Come on, lazy bones. Today's the big day."

"...already got married..." was the mumble.

Brian chuckled as Justin began to stir in his arms. "Okay, then, _second_ biggest day. I have a father to get elected, remember?"

Justin slowly lifted his head to peer into Brian's eyes, his own normally bright blue eyes slightly cloudy in sleep as they widened in realization. "Oh, shit, how could I forget that?" he murmured as he pushed himself up off Brian's chest. "What time is it?"

Brian played with Justin's hair hanging down over his forehead as he informed him, "A little after 7."

Justin frowned. "Seven _a.m._?"

Brian laughed as Justin grinned back at him then, the gig up. "You little shit! You know very well I mean a.m.! Now get your ass off me so I can get up!"

"That's a first," Justin quipped smugly as Brian rolled his eyes. He shrieked as, all of a sudden, Brian flipped him onto his back and loomed over him, pinning his wrists above his head. He was fully awake now - in every way that counted - as Brian swooped in to steal a deep kiss from him that left him rock hard and breathless.

"I...I thought you had to get ready," Justin panted out in amusement.

"Well, I think I can push my schedule back just a bit," Brian decided as his eyes swept down the unblemished skin of his husband. "Boss's prerogative," he explained with a smirk as he leaned down to take a hardened nub between his lips to give it a quick tug with his teeth, evoking a moan from his lover. "And I'll have you know that I am MORE than 'ready.'"

Justin snorted. "When are you not?"

Brian curled his lips under as he finally let go of Justin's hands to reach over and grab the lube from the top of the nightstand. "Touché, Sunshine," he murmured as he squirted some onto his fingers and Justin lifted his legs to place them on Brian's shoulders. "Or should I say _touch?_" he added as he carefully began to prepare him with one, and then two fingers, evoking a moan of pleasure as he hit just the right spot before removing them.

A few seconds later, he was firmly entrenched inside the hot, wet, unrestricted channel, plunging in and out in abandon as he grunted on each down stroke and Justin's hips rose perfectly to meet him. He knew that no matter HOW long they were together, he would never, ever, get tired of this sensual ballet.

* * *

Thirty minutes later, the two men emerged from the shower after a quickie, Brian hurrying now to get groomed and dressed, having told his pilot at the airport that he would be there within the half-hour.

Casually attired in a light-gray, cashmere, cabled sweater and a pair of dark, charcoal gray denim pants and black dress boots, he brushed his hair meticulously into place before spritzing on some cologne and hair spray to finish his routine. Turning to go, he discovered to his surprise that his husband was dressed, also, in a navy-blue, V-necked sweater and matching button-down shirt, with gray, pin-striped, linen pants.

"Well, that has to be a Guinness World Record for getting dressed," he deadpanned. "You're awfully gussied up to be painting, though, Picasso," he observed as he walked over to his husband.

"That's because I'm not going to paint," Justin announced as he straightened out Brian's small, _Ignite the Change with Fin_ pin he had attached to his sweater and linked his hands behind Brian's neck. "I'm going with you."

"Justin, I'm going to have to be there all day today - and maybe all night. You'll be bored as hell and I won't be able to keep you company. Why don't you wait until after the polls close? I can send the plane back for you then."

Justin shook his head as he wrapped his arms around Brian's neck. "Nice try, Mr. Campaign Manager. But Tony already told me he's taken the day off to do the same thing, so we can keep each other company while our husbands are working. So let's get going before your pilot gets impatient." He planted a brief kiss on Brian's lips before hooking his fingers through the belt loops of Brian's pants and pulling him toward the bedroom door. Brian shook his head in resignation as he reached to clasp Justin's hand in his. "Yes, Sir. Remind me, by the way, after the election is over to keep you and the good counselor away from each other. I think you two are far too much alike, and two copies of you scare the hell out of me."

Justin grinned as they proceeded down the hallway and toward the downstairs.

* * *

_Same Time - Debbie's House_

Alex curled up into a fetal position as she promptly felt her comforter snatched away from her, and a rush of cold air blew across her exposed midriff where her pajama top had ridden up. "Shit!" she growled as she felt, rather than heard, her 'jail matron's' presence in the room. Lying on her side, she turned around to flop down onto her back to glare up at Debbie. "Why'd you do THAT for?" she groused as she reached toward the corner of the comforter bunched up on the corner of the mattress to grab it, only to have Debbie pull it farther away. "What the fuck...?"

Debbie glanced down at her watch before she announced, "It's 8:30, Alex. You have thirty minutes to take a shower, get dressed - new clothes are over there," she told her as she pointed over at a folded stack of clothes on top of the dresser - "and grab some breakfast before we head to the diner for our shift."

Alex rolled her eyes as she tugged her pajama top down. "If I have to smell that turkey sausage and egg omelet shit again, I'll barf," she warned as she crossed her arms over her chest and hugged herself to try and stay warm.

"Well, then, I'll instruct the gourmet chef to use egg substitute and pork sausage, then, Your Highness; now _get your ass out of BED_!"

Debbie stood there unmoving, hands on hips, before with a great deal of grumbling Alex scooted off the bed. She walked past Debbie with a glare as she picked up the neatly folded pile of clothes lying on the top of the dresser: a pair of skinny jeans, plain, white underwear, bright, crisp-white, footie socks, and a simple, navy-blue, long-sleeved tee-shirt, along with a pair of new sneakers. A new, Navy hoodie from Hunter's alma mater lay on top. The whole ensemble would have been passable, perhaps, except for the last item: a vest with a bright, red, rear panel and two, garish, yellow flaps with several gay-acceptance themed buttons stuck all over them, along with a Liberty Diner I.D. button with her name emblazoned on it. She noted idly that her name was now imprinted upon the badge, rather than handwritten. She wasn't sure if that made her feel good or uneasy, however.

"Cute, huh?" Debbie commented with a proud smile as Alex picked up the vest and held it up by the flaps to examine it, her nose scrunching up in extreme displeasure. "That was my first work vest at the Diner. I used my sewing machine downstairs to cut it down to size so it would fit you. Try it on."

_WAY down to size, _Alex couldn't help surmising as she turned to peer over at her, aghast, as if she were holding up a ballet tutu instead; it was just as unpleasant a notion. "Uh...no way; I don't think so. I wouldn't be caught dead in this thing - unless I'm trying out for a clown job with Barnum & Bailey."

Debbie's eyes narrowed. "I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that, Alexandra," she curtly replied as she waggled a rainbow-painted fingernail at the child, taking pains to enunciate the girl's first name. "Because I know you've had a pretty rough life. But you're still kind of an ungrateful little shit, aren't you? I hope you were a little more thankful when Brian let you stay in that hotel, and didn't turn you into the cops when you trashed the place." She shook her head sadly. "One of these days, you're going to have to trust people and believe that not everyone is out to get you. Now go take a shower and get dressed! Right now I don't care if you throw those tatters of yours back on or not; your choice. You have fifteen minutes to meet me downstairs for breakfast, or you won't have time to eat."

Alex snorted. "Duh! Really? I'm working at a diner..."

"It's not a fucking free store/food bank!" Debbie growled. "Fifteen minutes." She stared unflinchingly over at the girl before slowly she turned around without another word and exited the room.

Alex stood there, her lips pressed tightly together in irritation, before she clutched the newly-purchased clothes to her chest and walked over to the door, noticing Debbie gone. Sighing in resignation, she headed toward the bathroom.

* * *

A few minutes later, hair still damp, she shuffled down the steps and dropped her body down onto the nearest kitchen chair.

Debbie glanced over at the young, rebellious girl, noticing with satisfaction that all the clothing she had purchased for her had fit. Just as she had thought, the blue color complimented her skin tone well. She had been careful to pick out fairly gender-neutral clothing, figuring that 'frilly and girly' was not Alex's style. She purposely avoided commenting on the bright, yellow vest now peeking out from the open flaps of the hoodie as she scooped up a couple of pancakes from a pan on the stove and placed them down on a casual dinner plate, along with two sausage links. Grabbing the butter dish and plastic syrup bottle, she walked over to place them down in front of her charge. "Orange juice?" she quietly asked as Alex nodded after a few seconds.

Sitting down with the girl a few minutes later, she slowly sipped her coffee as she read the headlines of the paper, detailing the possible history-making election that was hopefully going to occur today. She longed to be there when Brian's father was elected governor - both boys had invited her and Carl to attend the victory party in Harrisburg with them - but she finally decided she preferred watching the results down at Babylon. Brian had closed the dance club for the evening so family and friends could convene to help celebrate his father's election tonight. The complimentary food and beverages being offered, along with the non-stop music and temporary, big-screen televisions installed to watch continual coverage of the event, promised to make for a festive time, and she had decided this might be a good chance to get Alex out to actually enjoy herself a little and become a little more familiar with her surroundings. That is, if the little shit behaved herself in the meantime...

After scanning the main news stories in the paper, Debbie folded over the entertainment section and turned to focus on her secret, guilty pleasure each day - working the crossword puzzle. A few minutes later, however, she threw the pencil down in disgust, muttering a variety of well-chosen, four-letter words.

Alex peered over at her in amusement. "You shouldn't do that, you know."

Debbie glared over at her, highly agitated over having all but two words completed on today's puzzle. "Do what?" she responded brusquely.

Alex swirled a bite of her pancake around on her plate to sop up some more syrup as she told her, "Throw your pencil. My teacher always said you could gouge your eye out."

"Oh, she did, did she?"

_"He._"

Debbie nodded. "Well, HE would probably throw his pencil, too, if he was asked about which quarter had the peregrine falcon on it. Where's my purse?" she asked all of a sudden, deciding perhaps she could peruse the coins in her purse for the answer.

"Imaddhoo."

Debbie frowned. "What?"

Alex finished chewing her wad of pancake and swallowed. "Idaho. It's Idaho."

Debbie eyed her skeptically until she reached to take her pencil back and studied the folded-up piece of paper; sure enough, Alex was correct. "I'll be damned," she murmured, impressed. "How did you know that?" she asked in wonderment.

Alex shrugged. "Just heard it somewhere, that's all. I'm not stupid."

"No, Honey," Debbie told her softly. "You certainly aren't." She saw Alex avert her eyes as she asked her, "You said your teacher told you not to do that. When was the last time you were in school?"

Alex gazed out over at the front window, avoiding Debbie's question for several seconds until she finally shrugged. "Couple of years, I guess."

Debbie's heart ached for this child. It was bad enough to be shunted around from place to place by a couple of drug-addicted parents, but she had never thought about the other ramifications. "Did you like school?"

Alex finally turned to look at her, fire in her eyes as she told her, "What difference does it make now?"

Debbie peered over at her with sympathy. "Well, you're going to have to go back to school sometime, whether it's here in Pittsburgh or somewhere else. If you don't have an education, then you might as well..."

"You're not my mother!" Alex snarled, her voice biting. "You can't tell me what to do! I won't even BE here long enough to go to school, so you won't have to worry about it!"

"Why do you say that?"

"You're just keeping me here until some bed opens up in a juvie center," she told her. "Then you'll ship me off just like everyone else does!"

"That's not true!" Debbie cried out. "I mean, Carl and I don't know where you're going to wind up yet. But we won't just throw you out on the street, or drag you down to some juvenile detention center. You will probably wind up with a foster family. That wouldn't so bad, would it? You'd have a home, a place to stay, three meals a day, the chance to go to school and make friends..."

Alex's eyes filled with tears. "I don't WANT to go to a foster home!"

Debbie put her paper and pencil down and pushed back from the table as she stood up. "Alex...Honey...you can't go back out on the streets again..."

"Why not?" was the petulant reply. "I've done it before; I can do it again. At least out on the streets I can go where I want, when I want, and no one tells me what to do."

Debbie sighed. "Yeah...until some pervert snatches you and does who-knows-what to you. Or you get bitten by rats sleeping in some godforsaken tenement! Or you freeze to death out on the streets! Winter's almost here, Alex! How do you think you'll survive when it gets cold? Where will you go to find food or shelter?" Debbie held onto the back of the chair as she wondered, "How did you even survive on your own this long? Did you take...?"

"No!" Alex yelled. "I do don't drugs! And I've never sold myself to some dirty old man so I can eat, if that's what you're thinking!"

Debbie nodded. "I'm glad to hear that. But your chances of surviving on your own are getting slimmer and slimmer each time you do it. Why won't you let someone help you? Even Brian was willing to help you before."

Alex harrumphed. "He was just doing his good deed for the day for the poor, homeless waif. He'd rather give me a handout than see me lurking around his father's campaign headquarters. That's the only reason why he 'helped me;' I was bad for his image."

"That's utter bullshit!" Debbie told her with such vehemence that Alex's eyes grew large as saucers and she shrunk back from her slightly. "Brian is a good man! He may act like an asshole sometimes," she conceded, "But he has a good heart! He could have turned you in, don't forget that! But he didn't. So don't go badmouthing him. He wanted to help you, too; he still does. Trust me, he was not doing it because it would be bad press for him to have a homeless kid begging on the streets. You just have to let us, that's all."

"Why should I let you help me? You'll just send me away again in a couple of weeks."

"Is that what you want?"

"What difference does it make what I want?" she cried out, her eyes prickling with tears. "I don't have any say-so in it. No one will care WHAT I think or want!"

Debbie sighed. "Well, that's where you're wrong, Kiddo. Brian cares, Justin cares, I care, and Carl cares, too. That's a whole lot of caring if you ask me."

Alex swallowed the lump in her throat. "Justin said he used to work at the diner, too."

Debbie smiled in recollection. "Yes, he did." She grinned. "And with that ass of his, he used to bring in a lot of tips, too." Alex looked at her in astonishment as she amended her statement. "By waiting on customers, Alex," she clarified. "Justin had a hard life when he was a kid, just like you; only he wasn't as young as you were when he got kicked out of his home, too."

Alex downed the rest of her orange juice in one, big gulp and set it down on the table. "He told me his father kicked him out because he was gay."

Debbie nodded as she reached for her coat draped across the back of another chair to put it on. Her face darkened. "Yeah, his father was a real prick; excuse my French," she hastily added at her choice of words. "But it's true. That sweet, smart, boy was thrown out of his house, merely for having the gall to love someone his father didn't approve of."

"You mean Brian Kinney."

"Well, Justin did pretty much fall in love with him from Day One," Debbie told her. "But I meant it in a general sense. He has caused that boy more pain over the years," she said sorrowfully before her face changed. "But Justin is a lot stronger than he ever gave him credit for; and now his father's the one who's going to be left out in the cold - rotting in a jail cell, I hope."

"What did he do?"

Debbie sighed; it would take much longer than they had right now for her to adequately explain everything Craig Taylor had done and what he was accused of presently. "It's a long story; I'll tell you all about it on the way to the diner. We'd better get going. I need to stop and vote on the way." She noticed Alex remaining in her seat. "Alex? Did you hear me? We have to leave NOW!"

"Why do you care?" was the unexpected question.

Debbie furrowed her brow, wondering if she was getting way too old to try and handle the idiosyncrasies of a pre-teen. "Care about what?"

"About me. You don't know me; you have nothing to gain by helping me. So why? Why would you do it?"

Debbie walked over and placed her slightly chubby, wrinkled hands on the girl's face as Alex peered up at her tearfully. "Honey, everyone deserves to be helped. And you...you deserve it in spades. Because no matter how tough you seem, I've seen enough kids like you to know that what you're really looking for is love. And whether you like it or not, you're stuck with me, at least until the court makes a decision on where you need to go." She leaned down to lightly kiss Alex on the forehead before she whispered, "We have to get going. Come on."

She turned to go just as a quiet voice asked, "Debbie?"

As she stared into the not-so-young girl's eyes, she thought she saw the flicker of some genuine emotion there as she replied, "Yeah, Baby?"

"Do...do you think the court would let me stay with you and Carl? I could work at the diner to help pay for expenses. And I don't take up much room."

The plaintive tone of Alex's voice threatened to break Debbie's heart. And while she knew she was really much too old to even entertain raising another child at her age, she found herself saying, "We would have to be certified as foster parents in order to do that."

"Well, couldn't you be? Foster parents, I mean? Your husband's already a cop," she pointed out as she pushed back from her chair and zipped up her hoodie.

"Alex, Carl and I are getting on in years..."

Alex nodded, her eyes welling as she grumbled, "I didn't really think you'd want to do it."

"Now hold on just a minute, young lady!" Debbie told her. "I didn't say that." She sighed. "I would have to talk to Carl about it first. But...we'll talk about it later, okay? After our shift is over - and after we get back from Babylon."

Alex narrowed her brows in suspicion. "Babylon? Is that some kind of church? Because I'm not going to any church."

Debbie laughed gustily at that notion. "Oh, you'll go to this one, all right. It's a whole _different _kind of church." Taking hold of Alex's hoodie, she began to pull her charge toward the door.

* * *

_Fin's Campaign Headquarters - Harrisburg_

The din inside the rather cramped space of Fin's headquarters was almost deafening as Brian and Justin were hustled inside through the back entrance, away from the prying eyes of the media camped out at the front door. There were televisions blaring everywhere, people on the phone, and animated conversations being carried on in all corners of the room. Kirk Middleton, per Fin's instructions, was being interviewed by one of the local news stations so Fin could be freed up to speak with the more influential, national networks in his private office.

"Holy shit," Justin said, having to speak up to be heard above the noise. "This is like a bunch of sharks in a feeding frenzy," he observed as he held tightly onto Brian's sleeve to keep from being separated from him. He was a little overwhelmed by all the noise and the people, but it was typical of anywhere Fin had gone during the campaign. At least in here he knew everyone was supportive of his father-in-law, and that helped to allay his fear of being pressed in with so many other people. Brian, sensing his uneasiness, slid his arm around his waist protectively as he steered him toward Fin's office.

"Don, how's everything going?" Brian almost had to yell as he walked up to Fin's door. Don was standing to the side of it to prevent any unauthorized parties from entering.

"It's a zoo in here!" he yelled back as Brian nodded. "But everyone's really charged up about today."

Brian smiled in satisfaction as Don opened the door for him and Justin and they stepped inside, quickly closing the door behind them to partly quell the clamor directly beyond.

Fin looked up from his laptop as they walked in and smiled. "Glad you're here," he told his son. "Justin, good to see you, too. Thanks for coming."

"I wouldn't have missed it," Justin told his father-in-law sincerely as he smiled over at Tony sitting on the couch nearby, nursing a cup of coffee. His own laptop was splayed out in front of him on the coffee table, and there appeared to be several legal documents lying next to it. "Hey," he called over to his friend as Brian joined his father, pulling up another leather chair to sit next to him as the two men looked over the latest polling results from the day before. Bowing to tradition and political etiquette regarding Election Day, none of the major news outlets would actually try to project a winner until later after the polls had closed. But nonetheless Fin's staff had accumulated numerous poll results from Harris, UPI, and other media powerhouses and father and son were now studiously examining them.

"Hi," Tony greeted him with a warm smile as he patted the empty seat beside him. "Have a seat. Us housewives have to stick together today." Justin snorted as Tony laughed at him.

"How long have you been here?"

"Since Fin got here; about 8 or so," he told his friend as he glanced over at his partner and Brian sitting together, engrossed in what they were doing. They had their heads almost touching as they quietly discussed the latest voting polls. "God, they're more and more like two peas in a pod every day," he decided as Justin nodded with a grin.

"Yeah, I agree totally," he told Tony as he looked at them. "What is so mesmerizing, I wonder? The latest sports scores?"

"Brian into sports?" Tony asked curiously, knowing that Fin despised the people who sat for hours in front of a television, watching sports on television and drinking beer after beer and eating corn chips as their method of 'exercise.' He always told Tony there was no point in being involved with sports unless you participated in them, not just watched them passively on some insanely huge, big-screen television.

Justin dryly laughed. "Hardly. Well, he does like to swim and play some tennis at Britin. And we have horses stabled there that we ride with Gus sometimes. I think he's played handball before, too, but that was a long time ago."

"Yeah, I remember Fin mentioning something at the wedding about maybe taking Gus for some horseback rides at Britin. We've got horses back at the house - although we haven't been able to do a lot of riding lately."

Justin nodded. "Yeah, I remember. Brian will do those sorts of things with me or Gus back home. But he wouldn't be caught dead sitting in front of a television, just watching someone hitting a ball back and forth or some car race with 500 laps in it. He would go nuts."

Tony grinned. "Spoken like a true husband of Fin's son. Fin is exactly the same way; but his passion is long-range hiking." Tony's face turned more solemn, almost sorrowful, as he told Justin, "At least it used to be. We would go off into the mountains for an entire weekend and not see another soul the entire time. It was great - and very romantic," he confided with a smile as Justin nodded. "Unfortunately, we haven't had a chance to do that for several months now; not since before he decided to run for office. And now I'm not so sure we'll get the chance to do it again in the near future, either, if he wins."

"_When_ he wins, don't you mean?" Justin corrected him as he stared over at his friend's face.

Tony nodded. "Well, you know that's what I hope happens," he told him. "But according to Fin, the polls consider him and Whittle to be in a virtual dead heat right now."

Justin stared over at Brian and Fin hunched together at Fin's desk as he asked softly, "Tony?"

Tony turned his head. "Yeah?"

"Give me an honest answer."

Tony frowned. "About what?"

"_Do_ you want Fin to win?"

Tony bristled slightly. "What sort of question is that?" He lowered his voice as he noticed Fin glancing over at him curiously, no doubt noticing the change in inflection. He brushed his hand through his hair as he smiled over at his partner reassuringly before Fin nodded slightly and returned to discussing the latest poll results with his son. He turned his head to stare back over at Justin aghast. "Of _course_ I want him to win! How can you even ask me that?"

The door suddenly opened before Justin could answer, jarring them slightly, as two more members of Fin's immediate staff walked in and greeted their candidate and Brian. The conversational level increased slightly in the room as Tony closed his laptop and stood up, Justin peering up at him in concern.

"Tony...I didn't mean..."

"Let's go take a walk and find some breakfast," he decided abruptly. His face softened slightly at the look of distress on Justin's face as he told him, "Then we can resume this conversation...but not here."

Justin nodded, thinking he understood, as he stood up, calling over to Brian to tell him where they were going. After providing his husband with a promise to be careful and avoid the media circus out front, the two of them were led from the room by Don Meyers, who stood watch over them until they were safely outside through the back entrance and unobserved. Electing to drive instead of walking due to the possibility of being detected once they reemerged back onto the front sidewalk, the two men climbed into one of the staff cars placed their for general use and, with Tony at the wheel, drove behind the building and out the opposite way to elude the reporters gathered in the other direction.

* * *

A few minutes later, they located a small diner reminiscent of the Liberty Diner and took a seat in a booth near the back. It was mid-morning by now and relatively deserted as the waitress walked over to pour them some coffee and take their orders. Waiting until the older woman had left them alone again, Justin peered over at his friend curiously.

Tony took a deep breath. "First of all, I'm sorry if I tried to jump down your throat earlier. I...I wasn't really expecting that question and it threw me off guard." He grimaced. "I thought as an attorney I was quite adept at handling impromptu questioning, but apparently that only applies to the courtroom, not real life." He sighed as he took a quick sip of his coffee. "But why would you even ask that, Justin?"

Justin took a breath. "Tony, I would never, ever question your loyalty or love for Fin. That is undeniable; you've been such a great support to him these past several months, and I remember how devastated Fin was before over merely the thought that the two of you might break up. But I also get the feeling that you're not exactly looking forward to all the freedoms you might possibly have to give up if...I mean, _when_ he does win. Surely you've thought about that."

"Justin, we discussed this before," Tony pointed out. "And no, frankly, I'm not especially looking forward to it; at least not what it represents. Constant media coverage, no matter where we go. Security following Fin around with every step. Everything he says scrutinized and studied and plastered all over the newspapers and internet. Microphones shoved in his face. Not to mention having to live in the Governor's mansion rather than back at our own home that we have enjoyed for over a decade now."

"You can't decide to stay in your own home?" Justin asked. "They're both in the Harrisburg area. Surely they can't make the Governor live in the Governor's mansion if he doesn't want to. Who would even decide that, anyway? Would it be the Governor himself?"

Tony sighed. "I don't know. Everything has been so hectic lately that we really haven't even talked about it much. I don't know how we could avoid it, though. All the governor's employees work out of the mansion, and he would constantly be commuting back and forth if we did mange some time at the house just to attend dinners and meetings. Maybe we _could_ go back home on the weekends, but even then would we wind up with some damn security person hanging around us 24/7 because of Fin's status? Fin has made it clear that wherever he goes, I go, and I'm very grateful for that. It certainly indicates a big change from when he never even wanted to acknowledge his sexuality before and hid me from sight. But I'd be lying if I wasn't worried that this will somehow change our relationship. I don't WANT to share him with some bodyguard."

Justin eyed him sympathetically. "I hadn't thought about all that, but I _could _tell you were worried about something." He let out a deep breath. "And I thought _Brian _and my lives had been disrupted the past several months! At least once the election is over I think we can hopefully go back to a relatively more normal life. I'd be lying if I didn't admit I'm definitely looking forward to more solitude - and togetherness - than what we've had recently. Brian has put as much work into this campaign as he typically does at Kinnetik."

"I'm sure he has," Tony told him. "He reminds me more and more of Fin every day. They're both so driven in whatever they do. That's one of the things that made me fall in love with Fin in the first place." He smirked. "Well, that and the fact that I thought he was the hottest man I had ever seen in my life. Still feel that way, too," Tony added softly as Justin smiled at him.

"You never really told me how you two met. Was it here in Harrisburg?"

Tony nodded. "Yeah."

Justin's eyes lit up. "Tell me about it," he urged him.

"Well, I guess we have the time," Tony decided as the waitress returned to bring them their breakfast. "Yes, it was right here in Harrisburg. Seems like a lifetime ago in a way." He took a drink from his coffee mug as the two of them began to spread syrup over their French toast.

"I was a young attorney back then, fairly fresh out of law school and full of starry-eyed idealism. I thought I was going to save all of the downtrodden saps who had been wrongly accused of crimes from being thrown in jail and forgotten. I was going to save the world!" he exclaimed melodramatically. "I wound up being assigned to the county D.A.'s office, and the workload was horrendous. But I really didn't mind - I threw myself into my work and got such a high out of winning almost all of my cases that it more than compensated for hardly getting any sleep or making much money." He grinned over at Justin wryly. "They work assistant D.A.s like dogs on a pauper's salary; it's like some evil tradition with them. But attorneys like me who have just passed the Bar still covet the position, because normally it's a good springboard for more lucrative work later on."

"Is that how you met Fin, then?" Justin asked curiously. "Through one of your court cases?"

"Well, not exactly," Tony said with a smile as he thought back. "It _was_ at the courthouse, though, and it did involve paperwork...Lots and lots of paperwork..."

* * *

_Flashback - Ten Years Ago - Dauphin County Courthouse Building, Harrisburg - 3:45 p.m. Friday_

_Tony's POV_

I juggled the large cardboard box of documents in my hands as I attempted to navigate the spiral staircase heading up to the clerk of court's office; the last day to file my motion was today, and the office was closing in 15 minutes, so I knew I was cutting it close. The late afternoon traffic had been even worse than normal, with two accidents on the main freeway heading into town, and that had merely served to put me in a sullen, sour mood. Grunting with exertion under the heavy weight of the paper, I finally managed to emerge on the top step, disgusted at how much I was huffing and puffing despite my excellent physical condition. "So much for the age of modern technology," I muttered, thinking how archaic a system the D.A.'s office had for delivering documentation across town. My paralegal, Sean, would have normally handled this menial task for me today, but he had unexpectedly called in sick at the last minute and I knew if I didn't take care of it no one else would; I had too much to lose if I missed the filing deadline. The woman in her thirties who had been accused of manslaughter was clearly a case of self-defense brought about through years of abuse at the hands of the deceased, and I was determined to file my appeal before the deadline passed.

Standing there for a moment to catch my breath, I sighed in relief now that I was within visual sight of the clerk of court's office. Hefting the box to a more comfortable position, I began to walk down the hallway to the clerk's office when my foot became caught on a slight fold in the large area rug decorating the hardwood floor and I promptly tripped, the open-flapped box slipping out of my grasp as documents that had been so meticulously placed in order before went flying everywhere, raining gently down onto the ground like delicate, paper airplanes. "Shit!" I snarled in disbelief as I knelt down onto the carpet and reached for the now mostly empty box, emitting a frustrated, heavy sigh as I began to scoop up all the papers, at the same time feeling ridiculous as I literally crawled around on my hands and knees to gather them up.

My eyes cast downward, I failed at first to see the linen-clad knees close to mine for a few seconds; as I rose back onto my knees to try and begin sorting the paperwork back into order, however, I suddenly noticed that I wasn't alone.

"I think these belong to you," a smooth, male, tenor voice told me quietly as he held out a stack of papers toward me. I lifted my gaze at the sound of the melodic voice to peer into a pair of piercing, steel-gray eyes as my breath caught in my throat. The man staring back at me with a smirk on his face had to be the most gorgeous specimen of man I had ever encountered in my life. Time seemed to stop for a few seconds as I stared, open-mouthed while I unabashedly ogled the other man until common sense - and the urgency of time - prevailed and I nodded. "Thanks," I finally managed to whisper hoarsely as I reached out to grab the small stack; my slightly calloused fingers brushed across the elegant, longer ones of the other man's and I instantly felt some sort of electricity pass between us as my gaydar dinged loud and clear. Whether it was wishful thinking or not, I thought the other man's fingers lingered just a bit longer than necessary on mine before I grasped the documents in my hands and inwardly cursed at my visceral reaction, noticing my hand slightly trembling as I began to leaf through them to put them back into page number order. I knew all too well how particular the Clerk of Court's office was, and it would be just like the Registrar to refuse to time stamp my documents due to them being out of sequence.

"I already put them in numerical order; the old crow won't take them if they're not," the stranger told me just then as if he were reading my mind. I gazed over again at the impeccably-dressed man in surprise. Auburn haired that just barely kissed his neck, he was attired in an expensive, dark-gray, pinstriped suit with a silk shirt and light gray tie. A small U.S. flag pin was attached to his suit collar, and his black shoes were polished to a brilliant gleam under the lighting above. Not a hair was out of place on his head, and his long, lean hands were professionally manicured. The entire package spoke of money and power, and I, presently clad rather casually in a pair of well-loved jeans and a corduroy jacket with a cotton shirt, felt decidedly underdressed. Normally I was very confident in my abilities and very self-assured, but to my consternation, I felt heat rising on my cheeks under the other man's intense scrutiny of me as I nodded. I couldn't help smiling at him as I responded wryly, "Yeah, I know her all too well. We've met before."

I watched, entranced and shocked, as the other man smirked at me and began to crawl around on his expensive suit to begin picking up more of the papers. "Better hurry, too," he told me. "The old battle axe closes the door right at 4:00 and not a second later, especially if she sees it's just a paralegal dropping something off."

"But..."

"Are you going to argue or help me get these papers in order?" he asked me as I huffed at his mistake. He gave me a puzzled sort of look over my reaction. "Don't get offended," he told me. "I happen to have a lot of respect for the working class," he told me generously.

"Good to know," I told him tersely as I snatched a batch of papers out of his hand. "Thank you for your assistance, Mr...?"

"Call me Fin. I feel like we're old friends now." The man smirked at me again before arching one eyebrow and grinning at me.

I nodded in acknowledgment, thinking that was a rather unusual name for someone. "Fin," I tested the name on my lips. I took a deep breath and let it out as I hastily straightened out the papers and dropped them back into the box. "Well, thank you for your help - _Fin - _but I won't take up any more of your time. Besides, I'm sure you'll have to change into more suitable clothes before you do your cleaning maintenance for the night." I promptly stood up with the box in my hands and whirled around to stomp over to the Clerk's office, hearing the man's musical laughter echoing behind me. Bracing my knee against the wall a few seconds later so I could hold up the box and free up one of my hands, I was about to open the door when a tall shadow loomed over me and I smelled an intriguing mixture of expensive cologne and something else I couldn't quite identify. My heart beginning to beat faster, I somehow knew who was opening the door before he spoke again. "Please, allow me...just consider it one of my maintenance duties."

I couldn't help smiling at that despite myself as he opened up the door and I walked inside, relieved that the friendlier clerk, Shelly, was seated at the time-stamp desk. "Hi, Shelly," I said breathlessly. "Got one to file."

She grinned. "Saved by the bell, Counselor," she said to me as I lifted the papers out of the box and set them down on the counter. "Four more minutes and you would have been out of luck. That's cutting it close even for you."

I ignored the man standing quietly beside me as I explained about the two unforeseen accidents out on the freeway while she took her old-fashioned, metal stamp and dated the legal brief on top, handing a copy of it back to me for proof of my filing. "Thanks," I told her as she nodded. "Have a good weekend. And say hello to Maddie for me." Maddie was Shelly's golden retriever; I had seen a photo of her in a picture frame one day, and being a major golden lover, I had asked about her. That led to us developing a fairly friendly business relationship, although I suspected she wished there were more to it. I didn't have the heart to tell her that she was wasting her time.

"You're welcome," she replied. "And I'll give her a kiss and a belly rub for you." She winked at me as I turned to go, noticing the handsome man still standing there silently studying me. This time, though, I detected what appeared to be surprise on his face as I nodded at Shelly and, folding the legal document to tuck it into my jacket pocket, I turned and headed toward the door, expecting it to softly close behind me as I left but hearing nothing for a few seconds afterward until finally it clicked shut.

"Stop following me," I said without turning around.

"It's a public building," I heard him say.

I turned around to face him, just as an older, gray-haired, petite but stylishly groomed woman hurried toward us. "_There _you are, Fin! Your driver's been looking all over for you!"

I watched the interaction closely, wondering why this woman was looking for him - and why he would have a driver. Just who was this person? And was this his mother?

"Sorry, Regina, I had to renew my driver's license," he told her. "And they don't exactly let a senator's aide do that for him, you know."

_Senator?_ _Had I heard that right? _I watched as the woman nodded. "Well, if you're done, you've got just enough time to get back to the Senate for the vote on the Hartman Bill."

Fin nodded. "I'm coming." I watched, gaping, as I now realized just who this person was. The only senator I knew that was named "Fin" was Fintan O'Connor, a very influential person in the Senate who was one of the major wheeler dealers on several key committees. I had never met him in person before - or even seen his photo for some odd reason - but it had to be him. I also knew if I had ever seen this man's picture before, I would have certainly never forgotten it.

"You're Senator O'Connor?" I asked as he smiled at me.

"One and the same," he confirmed with a wink. "And you? Do you have a name besides _Counselor_?"

I grinned, my previous anger and irritation promptly dissipating. "Wouldn't YOU like to know?" I teased, openly flirting with him now as he stared at me open-mouthed, the shoe now on the other foot. I kind of liked that feeling of one-up-man-ship. "I hear you're pretty powerful," I told him. "Let's see what YOUR paralegals can find out."

He couldn't help smiling back at me, clearly impressed, as I turned around and headed back down the hallway, wondering how long it would take for him to do just that and hoping I hadn't lost my chance to get to know this infuriating - but extremely intriguing - man a lot better.

_End Flashback..._

* * *

_Present Day_

"You didn't!" Justin exclaimed with a laugh as Tony nodded in confirmation. "Why, Tony Cassinelli, I'm impressed! What happened then? How long did it take for him to figure out what your name was?"

Tony smiled over at Justin ruefully. "Well, I wish I could tell you that the paralegals poured over all kinds of bar association documents to find out who I was. But I'd be lying," he said with a laugh as Justin grinned.

"So how DID he find out?"

"It was quite easy, actually. I found out the little fucker walked right back into the Clerk of Court's office and asked Shelly who I was. Naturally, all he had to do was flash that sexy smile at her and use that tone of voice he has; well, you know what I mean," Tony said sheepishly as Justin nodded. Heaven knows Brian had used those same tactics on him before - and with the same results. "Well, all he had to do was use his innumerable charms on her and she was the proverbial putty in his hands. He had my full name and even my office address within five minutes flat."

"I thought you said before that you got there with four minutes to spare," Justin pointed out.

Tony nodded. "I did. But the top of the door is made out of glass. Fin just stood there with that exasperating smile on his face and those puppy-dog eyes and she immediately opened the door back up."

Justin laughed. "Oh, he had it bad, then. So what happened after that?" he asked, avidly curious now. "Did he show up at the D.A.'s office the next day?"

Tony blushed. "Not quite. He apparently wanted to see me in action first."

"Excuse me?" Justin laughed.

"No, no, not like that!" Tony immediately corrected him with a laugh of his own. "He got one of his assistants to access the D.A.'s docket and found out when my next court appearance was. I was defending someone who had been a whistleblower on a fraud case the next day. Here I was, right in the middle of my impassioned closing argument, and I looked out into the courtroom and who did I see but Fintan O'Connor. I was just getting close to my conclusion and thought I had everyone in my back pocket, sure I was going to win the case, when I looked over at him and promptly lost all train of thought when he winked at me. I had never lost my composure before, and it really threw me off track. I started hemming and hawing, and barely managed to remember what I was trying to say. It was a miracle I managed to get a 'not-guilty' verdict out of the jury after I almost royally fucked it up." He shook his head in embarrassment as he looked over at his friend. "Has that ever happened before with you and Brian?"

Justin guffawed. "Are you kidding me? When I first met him, I was as pure as snow and he scared the shit out of me." He smiled at the recollection. "But he was also the most amazing man I had ever met. I don't know if it was pheromones or what kicking in when he walked up to me. But he had me as soon as he opened his mouth and asked me how it was going. Right then and there, I knew how 'it was going.' I was going wherever HE was going."

Tony laughed. "Like father, like son apparently. Why does that not surprise me?"

"No getting off the subject," Justin scolded him. "I told you before how Brian and I met. I want to hear more about you and Fin. What happened after that? Did he come up to you afterward to talk?"

Tony smirked. "You think I would make it that easy on him?"

* * *

_Flashback - Dauphin County Courthouse, Harrisburg_

I shook hands with my opponent; a man that I frequently sparred against in court. Even though I had almost botched my closing argument, the jury had still done their job and had considered all the evidence before finding my client 'not guilty.'

"Congrats, Tony," Mark Perez told me with a smile. "Although you almost fucked it up. That's not like you. What happened?"

I grimaced, relieved that the object of my distraction was no longer in the courtroom, but finding myself a little disappointed by that fact as I wondered how to respond. Somehow telling this strait-laced, Ivy-League colleague who always boasted of having the perfect wife and four perfect kids at home that I had been distracted by an incredibly hot guy winking back at me from the courtroom while visions of him fucking me over my oak desk flashed through my mind didn't seem like such a good idea. So, instead, I told him, "I thought I saw someone I knew and it affected my concentration for just a minute."

Perez nodded. "Well, it almost cost you the case."

"_Almost_," I conceded. "But almost is only good in horseshoes."

He snorted. "Well, I'll be breathing down your back next week during the Thompson trial," he warned me.

"I'll be ready," I promised him. He nodded before quietly turning to go, leaving me alone to gather up my papers and place them into my briefcase. The room was starkly silent until I heard someone in the back of the room speaking, and my pulse immediately sped up as I instantly recognized who it was.

"Still pedaling papers, I see," Fin drolly commented as I turned to observe him leaning against the back wall. "That was some closing argument. You know you're pretty sexy when you get all worked up," he observed as my face warmed. Why did this man always do that to me? "But you seemed to stumble over that last part. Wonder why?" he asked as he got closer and closer and I felt like a rat trapped in a maze. Truth be told, I could have easily exited out the nearest side door that led into one of the corridors, but I found that I didn't want to; at least not yet.

"Why do you _think_?" I blurted out without thinking, instantly wishing I had kept my mouth shut. "You were distracting me."

Fin smiled, pleased with that apparently. "Oh, I was, was I? I was just a spectator listening to a case being heard. Why would that distract you?" He was now within a few feet of my personal space, and I could smell once again that intoxicating mixture of expensive cologne and just plain, raw, maleness that he exuded, and it made me feel uncharacteristically unsettled.

"You...You were staring at me," I managed to say, thinking how immature that sounded. _Get a grip, Cassinelli!_ I silently berated myself as he peered into my eyes before his gaze swept lazily downward to inspect my entire body.

"You're all dressed up today," Fin murmured in appreciation as his eyes rose to meet mine. "Very nice. But I think I liked the casual look yesterday better."

My face burned from his scrutiny and I felt my cock twitch over his voice and the way he was looking at me, but I was determined not to act like some wimpy, drooling twink; besides, I was a few years south of that anyway. "What do you want, Senator?" I asked in a surprisingly polite, detached tone of voice, secretly proud of how calm I sounded.

As soon as he smiled at me, however, that feeling promptly vanished. "I want you to have dinner with me," he simply replied. "Tonight."

I snorted at his presumptuousness. "Dinner? What makes you think I'm even interested? For all you know, I have a wife and kids to get home to. Aren't you taking a lot for granted?"

His smile grew even brighter as he replied, "Don't think so. Antonio Cassinelli the II. Son of Antonio and Victoria Cassinelli, who emigrated from Italy just before you were born. No siblings. Graduated magna cum laude from Northwestern University in Chicago five years ago, and currently one of several assistant D.A.s for Harris County. Likes to rock climb, play racquetball, and bike in his spare time, as well as travel to exotic locations on vacation. No record of any wife or children and never been married."

His speech sounded like a "_Tony Cassinelli, This is Your Life_" episode. I wasn't sure if I was resentful or flattered by everything he knew about me. "How do you know all that?" I asked suspiciously.

He shrugged as he grinned back at me with impossibly white teeth. "I'm a politician; it's my business to find out information before I make a decision."

"Oh? And just what decision is that?"

"That you could care less about a wife and kids," he murmured huskily as he walked closer to me and my heart began to beat faster despite my attempt to appear aloof. "That when other men are checking out the pretty little women strutting around in their teeny bikinis in those beauty pageants, you're checking out the hot guys hosting them in the tuxedos and wondering what they would look like in a Speedo. That you're wondering right now what it would be like to go out with me and be wined and dined to your heart's content."

I had to admit he had hit the nail on the head; that did sound particularly inviting. Of course, there were _other_ things I was wondering about, too, when it came to this incredibly magnetic, handsome man; but I wasn't about to divulge my hand at the moment. So instead I merely answered with a cocked eyebrow, "Oh? Is that so?" I turned to close my briefcase, mortified to find my hands shaking slightly as I lifted it up onto the table in preparation to leave.

"Yeah," the cocky bastard answered. "So...What type of food do you like? Italian?" He laughed. "No, I imagine you get more than your share of that; I bet your mother home cooks for you all the time. Japanese, then? Mediterranean? Seafood? Amish? Take your pick."

My back turned to him presently, I had to bite back a laugh at that last choice as thoughts of some woman wearing a white apron and a long, dowdy skirt serving me Apple Brown Betty and an entire chicken flashed through my mind.

"Or...maybe you'd just prefer a good piece of _meat_."

_Oh, fuck_. I bit my lip, my face flushing immediately as I had to bite back a groan at the lascivious thoughts _that_ engendered as I struggled to regain control of my body rebelling against me. Taking a few deep breaths to compose myself, I turned around at last to face him, finding his gray eyes boring into mine. "Don't you senators have work to do during the week like the rest of us lowly, working-class stiffs?"

He grinned at me again, obviously finding that entertaining. "We have been known to work unusual hours. I'm close to having the record for the longest filibuster in state history, as a matter of fact, so the others actually heave a sigh of relief when I'm not in the chamber. But don't worry; I always manage to get back in time for all my meetings and to vote for important legislation."

I thought I detected a note of pride in that statement, which made my opinion of the man rise just a bit higher. I nodded. "Glad to hear it. I guess that's why they call so many politicians blowhards, then."

He laughed at me then, a deep, throaty laugh. "I _like_ you, Counselor!" he decided with a broad smile that made my heart flutter, something that had never happened to me before. "You still haven't answered my question. Where are we going?"

I looked into his eyes, sensing what I was about to do would be a pivotal point in my life. I really knew nothing at all about this man. But something told me my life was never going to be the same from now on. Letting out a deep breath, I smiled back at him before finally deciding, "I think I'm in the mood for steak."

His broad smile showed me how pleased he was as he nodded. "My thoughts exactly."

_End Flashback_

* * *

Justin smiled as Tony finished up his narrative. "Oh, shit. That could have been Brian talking. Except he would have never actually asked me out on a date."

Tony's eyes rose. "No?"

Justin shook his head and laughed. "No, not in a million years. Brian always claimed he didn't fall in love, he didn't do dates or relationships, and he would never get married. I seemed to have broken that logjam, though, although it took a long time to get there." He paused. "But it was definitely worth it. I love Brian more and more every day, and I suspect you feel the same about Fin. They're _both_ worth it, aren't they?"

Tony nodded, his face reflecting something more melancholy than Justin's.

"What?" Justin pressed softly. "Is this about what we were talking about before? About Fin being elected and the changes that will occur as a result? You know that Fin will always love you, Tony. He worships the ground you walk on."

Tony smiled over at him wistfully. "I know. And I love him. I'm just afraid, Justin; for the first time in my goddamn life, I'm afraid. I'm afraid that somehow our relationship will change."

"Tony, you won't let that happen," Justin reassured him firmly. "_Fin_ won't let that happen, either. He loves you too much."

Tony sighed. "Justin, sometimes despite the best of intentions, things happen to change your life dramatically, whether you want it to or not. Neither one of us can know exactly what will happen. But I CAN tell you this: I love that man with every fiber of my being. We've spent the last decade together and I can't imagine my life without him in it. So no matter what happens, I will fight tooth and nail to stay with him as long as that's what he wants, too."

"Well, that's it, then," Justin replied. "Neither one of you are going anywhere - except to the Governor's mansion."

Tony shook his head in amusement. "Well, that should certainly shake things up! A gay governor living with his partner in the heralded Governor's mansion and - horrors! - sleeping in the same bed? What IS the world coming to?" He grinned.

"Maybe it's growing up," Justin decided softly. "Maybe everyone will finally decide that it's a person character that matters, not who they happen to love that counts."

"I hope so, my friend. I hope so." Tony sighed, looking down at his plate. He had long since lost his appetite; he was too wired up about tonight's election. "I think I'm done with breakfast. Ready to go back into the fray? I have some paperwork I need to do for a court case anyway; that will keep me pretty busy."

Justin nodded. "Yeah; I brought a sketchpad with me. I figured I could draw some of the hustle and bustle." Tony nodded as he began to scoot over on the booth's seat to rise.

"Uh, Tony?"

Tony glanced over at his friend. "Yeah?"

"You didn't say how your date at the steakhouse turned out. I'm dying to know."

Tony smiled in recollection. "Now I can't go giving away ALL my secrets." At the look of disappointment on Justin's face, he laughed. "Okay, I will - later. Let's just say that we never made it to the restaurant - but I still got a real juicy piece of meat that night anyway."

Justin actually blushed. "Well, now you'll HAVE to share, Cassinelli."

Tony grinned, clamping his hand on Justin's shoulder as they stood up next to each other. "I promise the next time we have a slumber party you'll be the first to hear all about it."

Justin rolled his eyes and snorted as he picked up the check and they headed toward the cashier.

* * *

_Thanks to my super beta, boriqua522!_

_I will have another part of this up very soon before I move onto the next story in my rotation that will cover the actual election results. Thank you for reading; hope you will stay tuned to see who wins.;)_


	36. And the Next Governor Is

_The day that everyone has been waiting for finally arrives. Meanwhile, Tony frets about what might change if Fin is successful in his gubernatorial bid, and a surprise lifts Brian's spirits._

* * *

_Fin's Headquarters - 5:00 p.m._

Justin glanced up from his place on the couch and quietly rose to walk over to his husband. Brian was sitting alone behind Fin's desk; his chair turned away from him, he approached from behind and placed his hands on Brian's shoulders to silently begin kneading the hard, tense knots. He heard a soft sigh of appreciation as he leaned down to rub his cheek against his lover's skin, continuing his ministrations as he sought out the unrelenting muscles and tried to relieve some of the stress.

For the first time today, they were actually alone. The crowd in the other room had died down to a trickle since Fin and Tony had left a few minutes ago to drive over to the convention center about five miles away where the official election party would soon be underway. Fin had rented a suite in the adjoining hotel where they could stay for a couple of nights to give them some much-needed privacy, but still allow him to be accessible on a moment's notice, both to his staff and to the press for interviews. As with tradition, he was planning on making an appearance down in the banquet center later once the results had been announced. With the media still predicting a dead heat, however, it was anyone's guess as to when the winner's projection would actually come. It was promising to be a rather long, arduous night.

"You are so tight," Justin told his husband as he whispered in his ear. "And not in a good way."

Brian groaned. "Fuck, that feels fantastic, though," he murmured as he closed his eyes and relished in Justin's almost miraculous touch. "You always did have magical hands, and not just for painting."

Justin kissed him on the cheek and smiled, ending his massage to slide his arms down Brian's chest. He sighed. "You work way too hard. I'm glad it's almost over. You've got to be totally exhausted; not to mention I'd like to have my husband back." Brian leaned back against Justin's chest as he placed his hands over his and let out a deep breath.

Turning around in his chair, he pulled Justin into his lap as he placed his hands around his waist. "I want mine back, too, Sunshine," he confessed to him softly with a tender smile. He had missed all those times when he would come home regularly at a fairly decent hour to find Justin waiting there for him with dinner being prepared and a drink in his hand as they both unwound and told each other about their day.

"I miss spending time with Gus, too. He was just getting better acquainted with Fin and then both of us got so caught up in this damn election that I feel like I've been neglecting him. I really want him and Fin to become closer after all this is over."

Justin reached up to tuck an errant lock of hair behind Brian's ear. "Well, Sean and Kathy have been wonderful to him. He's been over to their house several times now. And I have a suspicion they're spoiling him rotten."

Brian snorted. "Suspicion nothing. From what I understand from Lindsay, he's got a virtual toy store in their spare bedroom. They even bought him a race car bed to sleep in, and Sean has taken him to see a couple of Steelers games, in between taking him out on the boat to fish. I think he's been fishing so much by now that the next time I see him he'll be sporting gills."

Justin laughed. "Well, I'm glad they're getting along so well. Sean and Kathy adore him, and I think he feels the same way."

Brian nodded. "Yeah, I think so, too. And I'm glad about that." He paused for a moment.

"What?" Justin pressed.

"I just wonder how Fin's election might change things, that's all. Once he's Governor, will he be too busy to even worry about getting to know Gus? I mean, I really think he wants to, but realistically speaking will it even be possible?"

Justin gazed into Brian's eyes. "Funny. That's kind of the same concern that Tony has."

Brian frowned. "About Gus?"

Justin shook his head. "No. He's worried that his relationship with Fin will change - and not for the better - if Fin's elected."

"How so?"

"He thinks that everyone will be intruding upon their privacy, and he's worried about having to move into the Governor's mansion with Fin and giving up their life as they know it now."

"What...Not enough room?" Brian teased.

Justin rolled his eyes as Brian grinned back at him. "You know what I mean! He doesn't want to give up their home - and the privacy they've enjoyed. I'm sure you can understand that. That would be like us having helicopters flying overhead or reporters camping out in trees at Britin, just so they could peek into our daily lives and sell photos to one of the tabloids. It's bad enough that Fin would be governor; add to that the fact that he would be the first openly _gay _governor and it will probably be even worse."

"Well, if they spied on us that would certainly curtail our romps in the hay, Sunshine; literally. I'm not sure the general public could handle our hot, little escapades anyway."

"Brian, be serious!" Justin chided him "They're no different than us. All Tony wants is to be able to live with the man he loves in peace. He's afraid if Fin does win that everything they've built up in their lives will be severely affected - at least for the next four years anyway."

"It could be eight; you're allowed one reelection term," Brian pointed out.

Justin grimaced. "I wonder if Tony knows that. I don't think I'll point that out to him."

Brian's arms tightened around the slender body as he replied softly, "Justin, you can't fight Tony's battles for him. You can be his friend. But when it comes to his and Fin's relationship, they will have to work things out on their own." He gazed tenderly into his husband's eyes. "I know you want to help him, Sunshine. But this is their problem to resolve, not ours."

"I know," Justin whispered back. "But I hope it works out for them. They belong together. Just like you and me."

Brian slid one hand up to Justin's neck to pull him down for a deep, emotionally-charged kiss, silently confirming what Justin had just said. He had gotten a lot better over the years in verbally expressing himself to his soulmate, but still found it was easier to demonstrate how strongly he felt instead.

As they breathlessly pulled back several seconds later, Brian took a few moments to nuzzle Justin's cheek, hearing a soft sigh of pleasure escape the thoroughly ravaged lips as he told him, "We'd better get going. Tony and Fin have invited us to join them in their suite first. I'm sure at some point, though, the press will be looking for either me or Fin to speak to them while we're waiting for the results."

Justin pulled back to nod. "You think it will be late before we know who's won?"

Brian nodded back at him. "Yeah. Everything Fin and I have seen indicates the vote will be extremely close. Something tells me there won't be any projections coming for quite a while after the polls close at eight."

He reluctantly released Justin and allowed him to rise before he joined him. Placing his laptop into his leather case, he reached for Justin's hand. "Come on, Sunshine; let's go whip some Republican ass."

* * *

_Pittsburgh - Babylon - Same Time_

Alex stared open-mouthed at the club's interior. Debbie had been right; it was certainly NOT the type of 'church' she was used to. "This isn't a church at all," she voiced aloud as Debbie laughed. A couple of men standing nearby guffawed at her as she glared back at them.

"Sure it is," one of them said next to her. "If you're here to worship cock." The two men fist-bumped each other and laughed at their joke before walking away toward the bar to pick up a free drink being provided by the house tonight.

"This is Brian's dance club that he owns," Debbie explained to her as she lightly grasped her by the shoulder and steered her over toward an outrageously large buffet spread out on four, rectangular tables. Vinyl banners being used in place of tablecloths touting Fin's "Ignite the Change" motto were draped over the tables and "Fin for Governor" signs were strewn everywhere, along with red, white, and blue helium balloons tied at the corners and bunched together along the walls. Several flat-screen televisions, each depicting a different national news network, were temporarily displayed on the walls, broadcasting the latest election results, even though it was way too early to really have any actual figures yet. The television anchors were merely spouting off their own theories as to who was in the lead, but it was all pure conjecture at this point.

Jennifer smiled at her friend as Debbie walked up with Alex. "Hi, Debbie!" she greeted her loudly, having to speak up over the din in the room. Between the mob of people congregated in every available nook and cranny and the televisions blaring, it was hard to hear. Jennifer could only imagine how raucous it would get later when the live band currently setting up in a far corner started playing after the results came in. Hopefully by then they would be playing victory songs and not ones of disappointment.

The buzz in the room was definitely a positively-charged one, however, as groups stood milling around small, white-table clothed tables, animatedly discussing how historically significant it would be to finally have an openly-gay Governor leading their state. Matchbooks with the "Ignite the Change" campaign logo and small American flags held in bud vases decorated each table.

"Hey, Jennifer!" Debbie called over to her. "Quite a crowd, huh?" Debbie was wearing a white plastic campaign hat with "_Fin's a Winner_" emblazoned in red, white, and blue on the band. It complimented her navy blue pants, white shirt, and red vest perfectly, which had a button attached over the right breast that said "_Marriage is so Gay." _

She smiled. "Yes, it is! Must be at least five hundred people in here tonight! Is Carl coming?"

Debbie nodded. "Yeah, he's going to be a little late. His shift isn't over for another hour, but he'll be here." Debbie had been trying hard to convince Carl to retire, but he still held down a part-time shift at the precinct.

Jennifer nodded as she peered over curiously at the young girl standing next to her friend with a cynical sort of look on her face, wearing a mint-colored, long-sleeve tee shirt and a pair of dark blue jeans. Her dark-blond hair was cut into a straight and simple short style, almost making her appear to be a boy. Only the small, gold-colored studs in her ears revealed her true sex, plus the lace trim around the rounded collar of the otherwise unadorned shirt. "Who's this?" she inquired.

Debbie replied, "This is Alex. She's...Staying with me for a while." She wasn't quite sure how to introduce her, but she realized that Jennifer knew her well enough to know that it wasn't unusual for her to take in wayward, lost souls when they needed a temporary refuge.

Sure enough, Jennifer nodded back with a small smile. "Nice to meet you, Alex," she politely responded.

"This is Justin's mother," Debbie told the young girl. Jennifer thought she noticed a small change in her expression as the girl looked her over intently.

"You know my son?" she asked Alex.

"I wouldn't go _that_ far," Alex quipped. "I've had the displeasure, though."

Jennifer glanced up at Debbie curiously over the odd remark as she gave her a silent shake of her head as if to say she would explain later. "Oh. Well...I'm glad you could join us tonight. It's going to be a very momentous evening, I think."

"You BET it will be!" Debbie told her vigorously. "We're going to show all those homophobes that they can't stop this train from leaving the station!"

Jennifer laughed. "That's one way to put it."

"Alex, want to go check out the buffet?" Debbie asked as the girl thought for a moment before nodding.

"Why not? Need to do something instead of just standing around here."

Jennifer's eyes widened slightly at the girl's surly attitude; she wondered how Debbie had wound up with _this_ one. She would have to ask Justin what he knew about this girl at the first opportunity. Clearly at the very least she needed a lesson on manners. She watched as Debbie steered the girl toward the food and drinks set up along the back wall before she turned around to greet Emmett, Ted, Michael, and Ben, who had just arrived.

"Hey!" Emmett called over to Jennifer as he walked up to place a kiss on her cheek. "Very exciting tonight, isn't it?"

Jennifer smiled at the familiar group. "Hi, guys! Yeah, there's definitely a lot of energy here tonight; everyone's rooting for Fin to win."

"Well, I've done my part," Emmett announced proudly as he glanced down at Jennifer's plate, noticing the only thing remaining on it was a small smear of cocktail sauce. "I see you liked the lobster roll."

Jennifer smiled warmly. "It was great! You made them?"

Emmett nodded, pleased. "Brian hired me to cater the whole shebang."

Ted clamped a hand over Emmett's shoulder. "Not that he would ever tell you that, of course; he's too modest." Em flashed him a mock glare of insult as Ted chuckled. "I think I'm going to go check out your culinary skills myself," he announced as he turned to Michael and Ben. "Care to join me?"

"Anything vegetarian over there, Em?" Ben shouted over at him.

"Uh...salad," Em supplied. "And homemade buttermilk rolls courtesy of my Aunt Lula's recipe."

Ben nodded with a smile. "Good enough," he declared as he looked over at Michael. "Want me to bring you something?"

Michael smiled. "Thanks - make sure I can identify it first, though," he teased as Ben nodded before threading his way over to the dinner buffet.

"How have you been, Michael?" Jennifer asked him as they found themselves alone for a moment.

"Fine," he told her. "The second shop's going very well out at the mall." His comic-book business several years ago had expanded to a more full-product line of super hero and science fiction memorabilia, and he had been doing so well that approximately a month ago he had opened up a second shop near the Big Q where he used to work, right across from a new mall that had recently been erected.

"That's great!" she complimented him as he smiled. "Congratulations!"

"Thanks," he told her over the din.

Jennifer took a sip of her wine as she peered over at Debbie and the young girl she had been introduced to. "By the way, are you familiar with Alex over there?" She nodded her head toward the young girl standing next to Debbie, juggling a plate of food in one hand and a soft drink in the other. "Debbie told me she's staying with her for a while and that she knows Justin somehow."

Michael rolled his eyes. "Don't even get me started!" he grumbled. "She's an ungrateful little shit. Brian found her hanging around his father's campaign headquarters in Harrisburg and actually felt sorry enough for her to put her up in a hotel room for a few days. She repaid him by charging new clothes on his credit card and trashing the room before running off. Brian managed to track her down and 'persuade' her to come work with Ma in the diner to help pay off the damage charges to the hotel. It was either that or he was going to turn her into the cops, so she decided on the lesser of two evils. Now she's living with my mom. I don't trust her! I hope she knows what she's doing with that kid."

"But how does she know Justin, then?" Jen called over to him.

"Ma told me that he and Brian dropped her off to work with her at the diner, the same time they asked if the brat could stay with her until they can figure out what to do with her. I think that was a little bit of an imposition - they knew Ma wouldn't tell them no - but I imagine that's how she knows Justin."

Jennifer nodded as she watched Debbie and Alex head back toward their table. "Well, she doesn't seem to have a problem speaking up," she observed dryly.

Michael snorted. "No, I don't think that's a shortcoming. Anyone who could accept someone's generosity and then turn around and thank them by destroying a hotel room is not on the bashful side."

"I'm surprised Brian would do that," Jennifer spoke up loudly as she watched Debbie and the girl heading back toward them. "He didn't even know her?"

Michael shook his head. "No. I don't understand it, either. You'd have to ask him or Justin what possessed him to do it."

She nodded as the two of them fell quiet when the rest of the group returned, silently making a note to ask her son about this peculiar slip of a girl at her earliest opportunity.

She winced as Debbie picked up a noise maker and blew it out as it made a trumpeting noise. "We're going to win this thing!" she shouted out, her eyes lit up at the prospect. "This is going to be the best thing that happened since that asshole Stockwell was beaten by Dinkins!"

Alex picked up a shrimp and swirled it around in her cocktail sauce before biting into it, all the lights, sound, and deafening noise just a bit intimidating. After living on the streets and scrounging day-to-day for her next meal and determining where to grab a few moments of sleep, being able to pig out on all kinds of food and drink - and know that a bed was waiting for her back at Debbie's house - was almost overwhelming. She listened quietly to all that was being said, soaking it up like a sponge that had been deprived of water for far too long. The man who was the caterer was definitely an over-the-top sort, wearing tight, dark-blue, spandex pants with a matching, glittery, sky-blue colored top that said "_I'm doing my part for America by only sleeping with registered voters who practice safe sex."_

The dark-haired man next to him was holding his hand over his glass, trying to avoid having any of the sequins from his companion's shirt drop into his drink, and the other, boyish-looking, dark-haired man had his hand on the beefy-looking man's arm as he took a drink from a curlicue-shaped straw. The blonde-haired woman who said she was Justin's mother was the only 'normal' acting one in the bunch; well, except for perhaps the muscled-looking vegetarian. She could see a resemblance between the woman and her son - both with blond hair and blue eyes and slender in build. Not for the first time, she wondered just what she had gotten herself into.

"How long do you think before the projections come in?" Ted asked no one in particular.

"I talked to Justin earlier today," Jen informed the group. "And he said Brian told him they were looking at a long night because the race was considered pretty much a dead heat."

"I hope you all voted!" Debbie warned everyone as she eyed them studiously. All of them nodded solemnly except for her son, who averted his eyes when Debbie looked at him. "Michael!" she shrieked. "You haven't _voted_?"

"I was over at the satellite store and didn't close it up until about an hour ago," he explained. "I had to pick up Ben at Carnegie Melon, so I had no time to do it. It's just one vote," he insisted.

Debbie's eyes blazed. "Michael Steven Novotny, the polls do not close until 8 p.m.! Now get over there right this minute and vote!"

"Ma, do you know how crowded it's got to be over there since everyone's out of work now...?"

Debbie put her hands on her hips like a drill sergeant. "You have more than enough time, so don't make excuses. What would you tell Brian if his father wound up losing by one vote? YOUR vote? Now GO!"

Everyone tittered around him, including Alex, as Michael's face turned red. "Okay, okay," he grumbled as he picked up his car keys lying on the table and turned to weave his way toward the door. "Sheesh!" It took several minutes before he could get to the exit, but finally he managed to reach the door and headed outside to perform his civic duty.

"I taught him better than that," Debbie growled. "If Brian's father lost by a close margin, I would have kicked his ass." She brightened, however, as she proclaimed, "But that's not going to happen. I don't care HOW close the race is. That man is going to win, I can feel it!"

Jennifer smiled. "I hope you're right, Deb," she called over to her as she leaned in closer to be understood. She thought about her son, remembering his conversation with her earlier in the year about his desire to have a child to raise. He had informed her that Brian hadn't said no immediately when the subject had been broached, but wanted to hold off until after the election was over to discuss it. She imagined Justin wouldn't want to wait _too_ long, however; she could see the longing in his face that day at Britin, and knew it was one of his most fervent dreams. She just wasn't sure if Brian would go along with it. She knew how deeply he loved her son. But did he love him enough to allow a child in their home? Was he ready - and willing- to go through that again? After all, he was an excellent father to his own son, but he hadn't taken a very active role in his child's life until later on. This would involve a total, life-long investment from Day One. Did he love Justin enough to agree to drastically change their lives for the next 18 years? And even then, a child wasn't something you could just ignore and discard once they reached adulthood. It was an all-encompassing commitment to nurture, protect, and love them for the rest of their life. Would Brian agree to do that?

"Jen?"

She blinked as she realized Debbie was calling her. "What did you say, Debbie? I'm sorry."

"You okay, Honey?"

Jennifer smiled. "I'm fine. I'm just thinking about how Brian and Justin could use some much-needed down time once the election is over. I've barely even seen Brian, and not much of Justin, either, over the past several months."

Debbie nods. "I know. Let's hope everyone's hard work pays off tonight." She frowned as she looked around the burgeoning crowd. "I just realized something..."

"What, Deb?" Ted asks from his spot nearby.

"Brian's grandparents aren't here. Where are Sean and Kathy? Surely he invited them."

Jennifer smiled. "He did. But they're planning a surprise for him; they flew out to Harrisburg a little while ago. They want to be there at the banquet hall when Fin gives his victory speech."

"That's _wonderful_!" Debbie gushed. "Brian and his father will be so pleased by that! I think it's great that Brian finally has a family that supports him; besides you and Sunshine, I mean."

"And _you_," Jennifer reminds her as Debbie blushes. "I can't wait to see him up on that platform giving his acceptance speech!"

Debbie glances down at her watch, turning it so she can make out the time under the gleam of one of the spotlights. "About two and a half more hours," she announced. "Not too long now until the polls close - and our very own Senator Fintan O'Connor is elected_ Governor!_" Lifting her glass, she clinks it against the adults' beverages as they all exclaim, "Here's to Fin!"

* * *

_6:00 p.m. - Fin and Tony's Suite - Harrisburg Convention Center_

Fin slid his arms around his partner from behind as he studied the two of them in the bedroom mirror. "You look beautiful," he whispered to Tony as the younger man beamed. "Good enough to eat," he added for good measure as his teeth scraped across his partner's lower earlobe. He was presently wearing one of the luxurious, white terry cloth bathrobes the hotel provided for their more exclusive guests, and it did nothing to hide his desire for his younger lover who had so far managed to pull on a pair of briefs and his sweater after their shower.

Tony groaned softly. "Fin, stop that, you know that makes me crazy! And we don't have time to indulge in that right now. Besides, it wouldn't look too wise for the next governor of the state to be sporting a big boner when he gives his acceptance speech downstairs."

Fin rubbed his cheek against Tony's as he wrapped his arms tighter around his lover and pulled him back against his hard-on. "Too late for that, Counselor," he replied huskily. "The damage's already been done. You'll just have to do something about it now. It's _your_ fault, you know," he told him. "If you didn't look so damn hot in that blue cashmere sweater I wouldn't be thinking all these lascivious thoughts right now."

Tony laughed. "Make up your mind, Senator! I don't wear any clothes you get horny. I put clothes ON, you get horny." Tony smiled as Fin's hands began to rub against the softness of the sweater, coming to rest against his nipples which were clearly defined through the expensive fabric. "Fin..." he gasped as the other man flicked the nipples with his thumbs. After all this time, his lover knew how sensitive he was there, and he felt like he was on fire. "Fin...God, you're making me so hard right now..."

"Tony, how about we celebrate my victory early?"

"But...But what if someone _needs_ you? One of your staff? The...the press?"

"Then they'll have to get in line," Fin told him gruffly as he reached down to tug at the hem of Tony's shirt. "You're first; you'll _always_ be first," he assured him. His partner held his arms up to facilitate removal of the garment as Fin dropped it onto the ground and began to attack his collarbone with his lips and teeth. "You always taste and smell so fucking good," Fin murmured as Tony melted in his arms, tilting his neck to the side so his lover could get better access.

"Bed," Tony managed to whisper hoarsely as Fin's hands lowered to his briefs to snake inside, before his partner turned him around to push him toward the bedroom.

* * *

_Forty-Five Minutes Later..._

"Why do I feel a sense of déjà vu here?" Fin quipped as he straightened up his tie while Tony retrieved his sweater from the floor. "You really should take better care of that sweater, Cassinelli."

Tony rolled his eyes as Fin grinned back at him. "I seem to recall you throwing it down on the floor earlier if I'm not mistaken, just before you gave me that 'come-hither' look and fucked the daylights out of me."

Fin's eyebrows rose. "Oh, really? Do you have any evidence of that particular incident, Counselor?"

"Would a sore ass be enough evidence for you?" Tony pulled the sweater down over his head and shrugged his arms into it. "Or how about this hickey you saw fit to endow me with? Good thing I'll be wearing something to cover it up."

"Why do you think I bought it for you last Christmas?" Fin responded with a smile as he walked over to brush back a lock of blond hair from his partner's eyes. "You look so sexy in that color, by the way. I can't wait to show you off next to me on that stage down there during my victory speech."

"Fin...I swear! Are you trying to kill me here?" Fin rolled his lips under playfully. "You are the only man who gets horny thinking about politics!"

"Not politics," he was instantly corrected. "_You_."

Tony blushed; he figured as long as he lived, his partner would make him do that. "Well, your _inspiration_ will be making national headlines if you don't let him finish getting dressed." A knock on the door sounded as Tony told him, "Go see who it is and let me get my pants on, will you?"

"Such a waste of a perfectly fine ass," Fin clucked. Smacking Tony on his underwear-clad butt, he turned and shuffled barefoot down the small hallway to the entrance as his partner let out a sigh of relief. He pulled out a pair of midnight-blue linen pants just as he heard Fin unlocking the door and letting their guests enter. He listened for a moment until he recognized Brian and Justin's voices before slipping on his pants and dress socks and padding back out toward the spacious living room area of the suite.

"Hey!" he called out to Justin, who smiled over at him. "Any news yet?"

Brian shook his head as he and Justin sat down next to each other on the couch. "No, pretty much the same thing as before; too close to call. They won't put up any projections anyway until the polls close in about an hour."

Fin nodded. "That's my thought as well. I think it will be some time before they issue any projections on the gubernatorial race. I think they'll stick to the local results and the state referendums that they are more certain about."

"Well, there's always Parcheesi," Tony commented solemnly. Everyone looked over at him as if he had grown another head before he burst out laughing. "Jeez, I was kidding! I don't even know _how _to play that game!"

Fin rolled his eyes as he picked up the remote and turned on the large, flat screen television in their room. He surfed through the channels until he came to Harrisburg's most popular station, hitting it just as his opponent, Dean Whittle, was appearing on the screen, being interviewed by one of the well-known anchors, Dorian Kidwell.

"The polls show you and your opponent, Senator O'Connor, are neck-and-neck in this race. That seems to indicate a rather wide chasm among the voters. Do you feel that will become an issue for whoever is victorious tonight when it comes time to getting things done afterward?"

"I don't think so," Whittle commented. "I like to think that it's a case of two worthy and extremely qualified candidates vying for the same job; to me, that explains why the race is so close. The Senator and I have worked together in the past, and while we may have philosophical differences as to how to achieve our goals, I have a lot of respect for him, and I think I'm safe in saying that he feels the same way about me. I suspect that no matter which one of us wins, the other will be seeking out the other's advice going forward. I know that's what _I _expect to do if I'm victorious. Senator O'Connor has far too much experience for me not to take advantage of his knowledge and wisdom. No matter who wins, both parties will have to work together, and I'm confident that the Senator would agree with me on that."

Kidwell nodded, her perfectly-coiffed chignon bobbing slightly up and down. "Do you feel the prior controversy with Turner and the men who tried to bribe him will have an effect on the campaign tonight?"

Whittle shook his head. "Not at all. If anything, my joining the campaign after Turner withdrew has turned it around, rather than alienating more voters. My higher ranking in the polls is testimony to that."

"What about the senator's stand on homosexuality? Do you think that hurt his campaign?"

"His stand on homosexuality?" Whittle replied curtly. "It's not a _stand_; it's the way he happens to live and who he loves. And while I feel that marriage should be between a man and a woman, he _has _taken a stand against bigotry and discrimination; two viewpoints that I happen to support. To me, this campaign has never been about the Senator being gay; he has a right to love whoever he chooses. I have tried to emphasize, instead, our differences in how we might effect change for the state. In that regard, we differ rather markedly. But I have - and always _will_ have - the utmost respect for my former colleague, no matter what happens tonight. And I applaud him for his candor and openness during this campaign. If we had less secrecy in government, perhaps both parties could work together and we could actually accomplish something, rather than dealing with all this bickering and acrimony."

"You know," Fin murmured as the anchorwoman thanked Whittle for appearing with her on screen, "If he wasn't such a staunch Republican, I could grow to actually like that guy." He smiled. "They _would_ find a candidate that I have a hard time detesting. Dean sure is a far cry from Turner and his cronies."

From his place next to Fin on the rolled-up arm of the overstuffed, leather chair, Tony squeezed his shoulder. "Well, you're the best-looking one." Fin obligingly turned his head enough to bestow a quick kiss on his partner's lips as a knock sounded on the door. "More of your adoring public, no doubt," Tony teased him as Fin groaned slightly at the intrusion.

"Get the door, will you, Cher?"

Tony smacked him on the arm as the others chuckled, rising from his perch to head over to the door. Don Meyer, Fin's head of security, had stationed a beefy-looking guard at the door earlier in the day, so they knew if someone was knocking the person was already cleared by him.

Tony walked up to the door and peeped through the hole as his face broke out into a wide smile of recognition. Sliding back the security chain, he pushed down on the handle to admit their visitors, barely getting the door open before a small dervish rushed into the room, straight toward his target.

"Daddy!" shrieked Gus. Brian barely had enough time to open his arms before his son ran headstrong into his arms; if he hadn't been sitting on the couch, he would have been knocked over by the force.

"Sonny Boy!" Brian's face lit up with pleasure as his son wrapped his arms around his neck and he tightly hugged him back. "How did you get here?"

"Grandma Kathy and Grandpa Sean," he answered, his voice muffled against his father's chest before he raised his head to peer into his father's eyes, his face mirroring the same sort of pleasure his father felt. "They brought me."

Brian looked over to the door to see his grandparents standing there, and he choked up over their generosity and thoughtfulness. It was as if they inherently knew what he needed tonight; _who_ he needed tonight in addition to Justin. He bestowed a kiss on his son's cheek before he pulled back with a smile to whisper, "I'm so glad you're here, Buddy!"

Gus beamed at him before he glanced over at Justin, who grinned back at him. "Hi, Justin! I get to stay up late!" he cried out in pleasure.

Justin laughed. "Yeah, I guess you do," he told him as he reached over to affectionately ruffle his hair. He looked over at Sean and Kathy. "This is a very nice surprise." His heart warmed over their thoughtful gesture. Somehow they must have known how much this would mean to Brian to have his son here tonight. Just seeing him, Fin, and Brian's grandparents all in the same room together, supporting him, meant more than anything else and made him realize he had done the right thing months ago when he had first sought them out.

Kathy was wearing a smart-looking, navy-blue pantsuit with a red-white-and-blue scarf around her neck and matching earrings, along with a small _'Ignite the Change with Fin_' button on her left lapel. Sean was wearing a more casual but flattering ensemble of navy-blue slacks and a slate-gray polo shirt with the same pin on his collar.

"Well, we wouldn't have missed this for the world," Kathy told him with a smile as they walked into the room to stand near the others. "This is so exciting! We weren't sure that his moms would let him come with us and miss school, but they figured it would be a good educational opportunity for him to observe the voting process in action, plus spend some time with a certain father that he talks about nonstop, so they finally agreed to do it." She reached down to place her hand on top of Gus's head briefly to affectionately ruffle it as she told Brian, "He's really been missing you lately, you know. We _all_ have."

Brian was unaccustomed to the lump that formed in his throat as he softly told them, "I've missed Gus - and both of you - too." He cleared his throat. "Would you both like to have a seat? I can get you something to drink from the bar or order room service if you haven't had dinner yet."

"We've already eaten, but thanks, Brian," Sean told him. "Some bottled water might be nice, though."

Brian nodded as he rose with his son still in his arms. Sliding him down gently onto the ground, he took his son's hand as they walked into the kitchen area to the full-size refrigerator to retrieve a couple bottles of water.

Justin grinned as he observed father and son with their heads stuck in the refrigerator as Gus asked Brian what 'room service' is. When he discovered it involved someone bringing food to the door, he immediately asked his father if he could order a 'nana split.' Justin remembered Lindsay telling him a few weeks ago that that had become one of Gus's favorite desserts lately.

Brian closed the door and groaned in resignation, knowing there was no way he could ever turn his son down. "Are you sure you can eat it, Sonny Boy? Your Grandpa and Grandma just said that you've already eaten," he pointed out.

"But that was _normal_ food!" Gus replied as Brian walked over to the bar and, after placing some ice in a couple of tumblers, poured some water for Sean and Kathy before walking over to hand them each a glass. Justin had insisted on surrendering his place on the couch so the older couple could take his and Brian's spots as he walked over to stand next to his husband. Gus immediately plopped down on the carpet nearby after discovering Justin's sketchpad and graphite pencils; locating a blank page, he began to draw a 'masterpiece.' "You can help me eat it, Daddy."

"Huh?"

"My 'nana split!"

Justin grinned as Brian nodded solemnly. "Ohhhh. Well, your Daddy isn't very hungry, but I have a feeling that Justin might be willing to help you eat it if you need him to. Right, Justin?"

Justin grinned. "It'll be a chore, but for Gus I would do it."

Brian rolled his eyes as Gus beamed.

"Okay, I know when I'm beaten. One banana split coming up."

"Yay!" His son cheered. "And tell them lots of whipped cream and cherries!" he requested.

"You and Justin are just alike," he muttered as Justin grinned over at him impishly. Picking up the room's hotel phone, he quickly placed his son's order with the additional requirements.

* * *

_1 A.M. - Tony and Fin's Hotel Suite_

The murmuring sound of someone talking on a phone roused Tony from his light sleep in his and Fin's bed. He flopped onto his back to notice his lover sitting in the desk chair, speaking softly to someone on his cellphone. Fin was doing his best to whisper, but in the closed-off space it was nearly impossible not to be overheard.

"Thank you, Dean. That means a lot." Fin nodded. "You, too. I'll be in touch."

Fin quietly flipped his phone shut, letting the information sink in. It had been a long struggle this past year.

"Fin?" Tony yawned as he sat up in his bed. "Was that Whittle on the phone? What time is it?"

Fin stood up from the chair and smiled tenderly over at his soulmate as he walked over and sat on the edge of the bed. Tony's clothes were mussed up from lying on top of the mattress and his hair was a mess, but he was an adorable, sexy mess. "Yeah, that was Dean calling me about the election."

Tony glanced over at the small clock/radio to note it was 1 a.m. "Shit, why did you let me sleep so long, Fin? I told you I wanted to be awake when you..."

Fin reached over to place his fingers over Tony's lips to silence him. "I know what you told me, Baby. But there was no point in all of us losing sleep until the results came in. I couldn't talk Brian into it, though - he's out in the living room watching the coverage with Justin - but Sean, Kathy, and Gus are sleeping in the other bedroom."

Tony simmered with barely-restrained impatience. "Well? What happened? Was he calling to concede or to gloat?"

"Well, even if he was calling to say 'better luck next time,' he wouldn't be gloating. He's not like that."

Tony shook his head in irritation. "Fin!"

Fin grinned as if he were actually enjoying his partner's reaction before he finally nodded. "Yes, he was calling about the results." The smile on his face disappeared as he solemnly told Tony, "It was extremely close, Tony. Within five percentage points, but far enough apart that there won't need to be a recount."

Tony reached over to grip Fin's face none-too-gently by the chin as he demanded, "Fin, I swear! If you don't tell me right now, I am going to..."

"So bossy!" Fin chided him with a grin. His face transformed into something tenderer as he finally held up his hands in surrender as he told his partner, "Okay, okay. He was calling me to...Concede and offer his congratulations."

It took Tony a few moments for Fin's words to sink in before he flashed a beaming smile back at him. "He _was_? So that means...? Is it official?"

"Well, it'd better be," Fin told him with a grin. "Because all the networks are officially projecting me now as the winner. And I'd hate to let that wonderful victory speech that Kirk wrote go to waste after all this time."

Tony's mouth hung open as his heart swelled with pride. "Oh, my _God_, Fin! I _knew_ it! I _knew_ you would win! Shit! You did it!" He pulled Fin's face to his for a deep kiss as they moved closer to embrace each other, their arms wrapped tightly around each other's backs as they sat cross-legged on the bed.

When they finally pulled apart, each one was sporting a goofy-looking grin of jubilation on their face. "I'm so fucking proud of you!" Tony exclaimed, his eyes misty. "I knew you could do it, Fin. I knew it," he replied softly.

"I see you heard the news," Justin replied then from the doorway as the two men turned to observe him and Brian standing side-by-side, both sporting smiles of their own. "Congratulations, _Governor-Elect," _Justin added. "I'm so glad you won, Fin." After everything that had occurred with Turner, Stockwell, Telson, Kip, and Adam Stewart - and most of all, his father - this was like a breath of fresh air.

"Thanks, Justin," Fin responded as he rose from the bed to walk over to them. "But I owe a lot of my success to my son here." He reached over to squeeze Brian's shoulder as they locked eyes on each other for several seconds. "I couldn't have done this without you, Brian. Thank you for everything you've sacrificed for me these last several months. I couldn't have imagined having anyone else but you as my campaign manager."

"It was you, Fin," Brian assured him. "You were the captain steering the ship; I was just helping to guide it in the right direction from time to time."

Fin shook his head. "No...It was your advertising expertise that helped turn the tide. It was a close race filled with so many ups and downs it made my head spin at times. Without your marketing savvy, I may have very well been going back to the Senate tomorrow..."

"You're being too modest," Brian murmured almost in embarrassment. "It was your experience and qualifications that made the difference."

Fin opened his mouth to respond, only to stop as he and Brian heard Tony clear his throat.

"Uh, I hate to break up this mutual admiration society, but isn't it about time for the governor-elect to make his victory speech downstairs before all of his supporters fall asleep in their martinis?"

Justin giggled as the two blonds grinned at each other, both men inordinately pleased by how Fin and Brian were complimenting each other.

"Oh, yeah," Fin replied sheepishly. "I guess that would be wise, wouldn't it?" He grinned. "Well, let's get this party started, then!" He looked over at his rather disheveled partner. "You might want to change into something a little less crumpled, though, Counselor. After all, I have an image to project here."

Tony snorted as he promptly smacked him on the arm as Fin laughed. "Fashion queen," he muttered. "The power's already going to your head."

Fin leaned is to whisper, "Well, _something's_ going to my head, but it's going to have to wait for now."

Tony's face turned red as Brian and Justin snickered. They didn't even have to hear what Fin said; it was written all over Tony's face. "Shit, Fin, you did it again!" he muttered as Fin laughed over his discomfiture. He shook his head in embarrassment. "Do I have ten minutes to take a quick shower?"

Fin smiled. "Make it fifteen; suddenly I'm feeling very generous. Oh, and I promise to stay right here while you take it." Tony rolled his eyes before he turned to head into the shower but then stopped. He frowned. "What does it matter what _I _wear anyway? _I'm_ not going to be up there giving a speech - YOU are."

"True," Fin agreed. "But you're still going to be up there - right beside me." He glanced over at Brian. "Along with my son and his husband...If that's what they both want." The two of them thought for a moment and then nodded as Fin nodded back at them.

Turning to look at Tony, he noticed the prickling of tears in his partner's eyes.

"Fin..."

Fin smiled tenderly. _Sentimental man._ "Go take your shower, Mr. Cassinelli. We've got a celebration to attend." Tony took a moment to return and wordlessly kiss Fin briefly on the lips before he turned and headed toward the master bathroom to get ready.

Brian slid his arm around Justin's waist to pull him closer. "Are you sure you want to be up there on stage?" he whispered softly against his face as his lips brushed against Justin's skin. "You're really going to be in the spotlight up there along with Fin and the rest of us." He recalled all too well how much glaring attention his husband had received before, and he wanted to spare him any more problems.

Justin reached up to brush the back of his hand against Brian's face. He loved him for worrying about him. And he had to admit; it did make him a bit disconcerted thinking about being thrust into the limelight again up on that stage. But he also knew that he had nothing to hide or be ashamed of, and he was proud of his father-in-law. This would be a defining moment in their lives, and he wanted to show his support for him. "Yes," he replied at last firmly. "I want to be up there with all of you."

Fin nodded, pleased, as he looked over at Brian; a silent message passing between them. "Good. You think I should wake up Sean and Kathy? And what about Gus?"

"Well, Sean and Kathy came here expressly to support you," Brian told him, "so I suspect you would never hear the end of it if you let them sleep through your victory speech. And as for Gus, you know he'll be raring to go as soon as they get up. He'll probably conk out again at some point down there, but I think he should be there to see his grandfather in action."

Fin nodded in agreement. "I'm sure Kathy and Sean can keep an eye on Gus from the sidelines; I don't think he should be up on that stage unless you want him to be."

Brian shook his head. "No, he's just a little boy. And while I know everyone will be supportive of you down there, I don't want him being subjected to what all of us have had to face these past several months."

Fin smiled before nodding. He took a deep breath, the reality of just being elected the next governor of the state just now starting to sink in. This was what he had longed to do for so long; now that it was imminent, he was almost overwhelmed by it. Would he be able to handle it?

"Fin?"

He turned to see his concerned son staring at him as he smiled back at him in reassurance. "I'm okay," he told him and Justin. "I...I guess it's just now sinking in."

Brian turned one side of his mouth upward as he told him, "Fine time to figure that out now..._Governor_."

"Governor-elect; give me time to adjust first."

Brian grinned as he spontaneously reached out to briefly squeeze his father's arm. "You have nothing to worry about; you're going to be a kick-ass governor, Fin," he told him firmly.

Fin felt a lump in his throat; that confidence in his abilities - spoken aloud so fervently by his son - probably meant more to him than anything. He swallowed before managing to say simply, "Thanks."

Just then they heard a noise nearby as Sean opened up the guest bedroom door and came shuffling out into the hallway, covering his mouth as he yawned and blinking under the garish lights. "Have they projected a winner finally?" he asked, surmising that something must have happened. He had heard murmuring just outside his and Kathy's bedroom and had left the other two sleepers to go do some investigating. He couldn't tell by their expressions, though, whether it was good news or bad news. "Well? Don't leave me hanging here!"

Justin grinned, somehow feeling it was appropriate that he do the honor since he had been the first one to meet them. "Sean, I'd like to introduce you to the next Governor of the State of Pennsylvania."

Sean's face lit up with elation as he reached over and clapped Fin on the back a couple of times. "I knew you could do it, Fin!" he praised the younger man. "Congratulations!"

Fin smiled, grateful that Lydia's parents were so supportive of him, despite what had happened so many years before. "Thank you, Sean," he replied sincerely. "I'm glad you're here tonight. I'm hoping you and Kathy will join us downstairs."

"Are you kidding?" Sean retorted as if insulted. "We wouldn't miss it! Kathy!" he called out loudly, not caring now WHO he woke up. "We've got a party to go to, girl! Shake a leg!"

The others laughed as Sean turned and headed back over to the bedroom door to fling it open none too softly. They could hear him telling Kathy that Fin had won before she let out a whoop of joy, echoing Sean's excitement. It wasn't long before a tousled-headed little boy came running out, dressed in Batman pajamas as he rushed up to his father. "Did we win, Daddy?" he asked as he peered up at Brian, rubbing his eyes sleepily.

Brian smiled at him affectionately as he reached down to sweep his son up into his arms. "We sure did, Sonny Boy!" he told him. "So you want to go to a party with us to celebrate?"

Gus nodded excitedly. "Yay! Will there be cake and ice cream?"

Brian laughed. "Well, I'm not sure about that. But I DO know that there will be music, confetti and lots and lots of balloons, so I wouldn't be a bit surprised." Truthfully, he had no idea; he had left all that up to some of Fin's inner circle to arrange with the hotel catering staff. "We need to hurry and get you dressed, though, so we can get going, okay?"

Gus nodded before he frowned, lost in thought. "Daddy, what's kung-fetti?"

Brian smiled as he looked over at Justin, remembering how many times the two of them had danced under a shower of it at Babylon. It brought back a lot of happy memories of the two of them together. "Well, let's just say it's little pieces of paper falling down on top of you instead of raindrops." His eyes locked on his husband's as he added, "And it tends to make people want to get up and dance."

Gus nodded, seemingly satisfied with that response. "Good! I like to dance!" he told his father.

Brian smiled as he looked at Justin. "So does Justin. Now let's go get you dressed for the party, okay?" Gus nodded again as Brian turned to head down toward the guest bedroom.

Fin and Justin found themselves momentarily alone as they smiled at each other. "Let's sit down for just a second, okay?" Fin urged. "Somehow I think this might be the last bit of peace and quiet I'm going to have for some time to come."

Justin nodded as he followed Fin back into the living room to take a seat next to his father-in-law.

"I'm very happy for you, Fin," he told him. "You're going to be such a great Governor. You will win over whatever naysayers are out there in no time."

"Thanks, Justin," Fin murmured before he added, "I really have to thank you the most of all, though."

Justin frowned. "For what?"

"Being elected Governor and being given the opportunity to lead this state is a great honor and has always been one of my greatest dreams," he told him. "But the most meaningful gift I have ever received was being able to meet and get to know my son. I...I have really grown to respect, admire...and _love_ Brian. And for that I have you to thank. If you hadn't decided to find me - and hadn't encouraged me to meet him, as well as push Brian to do the same - I would have missed out on one of the greatest experiences I have ever had." He grimaced. "I have to admit that being old enough to be a grandfather is kind of a bruise to my ego," he told Justin, who grinned. "But Gus is such a terrific kid! I definitely want to get to know him better." He paused for a moment as he told Justin, "So for all of those reasons, I want to thank you. You are really quite a man - and Brian is one lucky son of a bitch to have you as his husband."

Justin flushed profusely over the heartfelt words. "I feel like _I'm_ the lucky one," he told him softly. "Brian...Brian has done so much for me over the years. And I love him more than I can say, as well as Gus. I feel like Gus is _my_ son, too." He didn't tell Fin that while he loved Gus deeply, he still also yearned for a little one of his own to hold in his arms and rock to sleep at night. Brian had mentioned he would be willing to discuss that once the election was over. Would he still feel that way now, though? He would have to wait a day or so before even broaching the subject; right now it was Fin's turn to shine. He smiled. "Are you ready for all this?"

Fin grinned. "The truth? I'm fucking scared to death right now! But I'm very excited, too. I can't wait to start working toward making good on all my campaign promises. I know it won't be easy with a divided congress - God knows how hard THAT can be! - but I can't wait to dig in and try! I think Dean will be a big help to me; he's promised to work with me and despite some of our philosophical differences, he and I aren't all that different. I know there will be some compromises involved along the way; that's part of the game. But I'm confident I can make a real change here."

Justin nodded. "I'm sure you will." He bit his lip before diving into something he wasn't sure he should bring up, but he felt it was now or never; he knew that Fin would be swamped for attention over the next few days. "Fin...?"

The other man arched a brow in question. "Yeah, Justin?"

"About Tony..."

Fin frowned a little in concern. "What about him?"

"I...I know this is really none of my business, but..."

"Justin," Fin responded gently. "You're family. What is it?"

Justin's face warmed. "Well, I, uh...Tony would probably kill me if he knew I was talking to you about this, but..."

"Justin..." The voice was soft but firm.

Justin took a deep breath. "Well, when we were together earlier..." He paused for just a second before he plunged ahead. "Fin, he's worried that things will change between you now."

Fin's mouth gaped open. "Why? Why would he think that? If anything I think we have an even better relationship now. I don't understand."

Justin glanced down the hallway to make sure neither Tony nor Brian were coming back out yet before he divulged, "Tony feels that once you become governor - and you move into the governor's mansion - that your privacy will be severely compromised. He's...worried that your relationship will change."

Fin bristled. "I would never let that happen, Justin! I love that man with all my heart! I...I can't imagine my life without him. You saw what happened when he threatened to leave before. It tore me up inside! How could he even think that? I'm going to straighten that out with him right now..."

Justin reached out to quickly grasp Fin's shirt sleeve in a slight panic. "No, Fin, please! I told you! Tony can't know that you heard this from me. I'm just telling you because I think you need to talk to him and reassure him that you won't let that happen. He loves you just as much as you love him. I just think he needs to know that he will continue to be a priority in your life, especially now."

"Justin, that will never change, no matter where I go or what I do," Fin assured him firmly. "I would give it all up in an instant if it meant that I could lose him. He's the most important thing in my life. Surely he knows that!"

Justin nodded. "I'm sure he does. But he's human, just like the rest of us. He still needs that reassurance from you. Let's face it, Fin; no matter how much the two of you love each other, there are going to be some big changes coming up now. You're going to be pulled in so many different directions, while Tony is thrown into the spotlight along with you. I don't see how that can be avoided now. You know how much attention the First Lady is given when someone's elected President? Everything from her hairstyle to where she travels to how much of the taxpayers' money she's using is continually publicized and analyzed. It might not be the same level of scrutiny that Tony will get, but if he's living with you openly as the first, gay partner of a U.S. governor, in a way he's going to be placed even more under a microscope than the President's wife would be. Plus, he has his own full-time job as an attorney to consider. So he's bound to be under a great deal of stress coming up. I care about Tony as a friend; I think he's a great guy. I just want you to be aware of what he must be feeling right now, that's all."

Fin pondered that for a moment; he knew Justin was right. He silently scolded himself for not thinking about that already, but with everything else going on it had slipped underneath his radar. He vowed that he would make a point of expressing to Tony - in words as well as actions - just how much he treasured him. He smiled. "Thanks, Justin. And don't worry; I will make sure he knows exactly how much he means to me."

Justin smiled back at him before he, too, nodded. They finished their conversation just in time, also, because no sooner had Fin spoken than his partner walked out, his hair still slightly damp from his shower but now dressed immaculately in a casual but well-made, light-brown suit jacket, a dark brown pair of pants, and a beige-colored shirt with the top two buttons undone. His dark brown, leather shoes gleamed under the light as he walked up and smiled at his partner.

"I'm ready," he announced before he grimaced. "Well, as ready as I'll ever be, I guess. Do I look 'politically correct' enough for your victory speech, Mr. Governor?"

Fin peered briefly over at Justin before standing up to walk over to his partner. His eyes were watering inexplicably as Tony frowned back at him. "Fin? I can change if you don't think..."

Fin reached over to place the fingers of his right hand against Tony's lips as he shook his head. "No, Tony," he whispered, his voice suddenly choked up with emotion. "You're perfect," he assured him. "You're absolutely perfect."

Tony sensed his partner wasn't just referring to his clothes style just before Fin swept him into his arms for a tight embrace. After a brief hesitation, he wrapped his arms around his partner and just stood there, taking comfort in the warmth of Fin's body against his. He wondered in the future if they could be this open with each other, but for now he vowed not to think about that. They would simply have to take each day as they come. He _did_ know one thing, though; actually two: he would never be ashamed of who he was, and no matter what happened, he would never stop loving this man.

As they broke apart, the rest of their entourage walked up to them, all eager to proceed downstairs to hear the Governor-Elect's acceptance speech.

Fin took just a moment to peck Tony on the lips before he smiled at the group assembled together. "I'm ready now."

* * *

As always, thank you to my beta, boriqua522.;)


	37. Some Dreams Fulfilled, Others Yet to Be

_Debbie frets over what's to become of Alex; the new Governor-elect tours his new house after giving his victory speech. Justin ponders the right time to approach Brian about the nursery._

* * *

_1:30 a.m. - Harrisburg Convention Center Ballroom_

Even at this late hour, the ballroom reserved for Fin's victory celebration was alive with excitement, due in part to the large amount of liquor that had been consumed so far, but mainly because of all the networks now officially declaring their candidate as the next Governor of Pennsylvania. A buzz of electric anticipation filled the air as everyone waited for Fin to arrive, knowing his appearance now was imminent.

They didn't have long to wait as the DJ in the far corner - on a signal from one of Fin's staff - began to play "Taking Care of Business" over the speakers as Fin appeared in the double doors at the back of the room. The crowd erupted into a huge, elongated cheer and exploded with applause and claps on the back as Fin threaded his way down the middle of the aisle, pausing occasionally to receive congratulations from some of his well-wishers or to shake hands with supporters nearby. A throng of media people were pushing to get his attention, their microphones thrust out toward him as they shouted a barrage of questions at him, but he chose to ignore them for now as he proceeded slowly down toward the podium, his bodyguard, Don Meyers, close by his side for protection.

He could have entered via the back of the stage area and avoided the press of people, but he had decided this was the way he preferred to enter - amidst the people who had so staunchly supported and defended him. Tony had decided to walk along directly behind him - the crush of people only allowed for single-file entry - while Brian had persuaded Justin to enter from the back of the stage to avoid the closely packed throng. The two of them stood quietly off-stage now, observing the mass of people straining to touch and be touched by the new Governor-Elect of the state, the entire scene at once both incredibly satisfying but also a bit surreal.

"Did you ever think we would see this day?" Sean murmured in awe from nearby as he and Kathy watched the proceedings from the side of the stage, deciding for Gus's sake it might be best to stay away from the crowd. The sleepy but excited little boy was presently being held in his father's arms, but was soon to be placed in the care of his great grandparents as soon as Fin motioned for his son and son-in-law to join him and Tony at the podium.

"Daddy?"

Brian smiled down at him. "Yeah, Sonny Boy?"

"Will I get a balloon? I want a red one."

Justin and Brian exchanged a fond look as Brian nodded. "You sure will. I'll make sure you get lots of them."

Gus frowned. "But where are they? I don't see any."

Brian pointed skyward above the audience. "Look up there; do you see all of them now?" Gus nodded in amazement as he noticed what appeared to be an entire sea of red, white, and blue balloons presently held captive in a large net. "Well, as soon as your grandfather gets up on stage, they'll let them all go. And I'll make sure you get lots of balloons! Sound good?"

Gus nodded, his face lit up with anticipation. "Cake, too?"

Brian laughed. "Well, I'm not so sure about that. But if there is some, I'll make sure you get a piece with lots and lots of frosting, okay?"

Gus nodded again as Brian impetuously ruffled his soft, brown hair while his child beamed up at him.

From his place by Brian's side, Justin observed the affectionate gesture and felt a tug at his heart. He knew deep down that Brian would be an incredible father to another child; after all, he was phenomenal with Gus already. But would he be willing to undergo the type of lifelong commitment inherent in raising another one? Brian never did anything half-heartedly; he experienced everything at full throttle. If they DID decide to raise a child together, then, he knew Brian would throw his entire heart and soul into it. He also knew it wouldn't be a decision he would make lightly, nor should he. At the moment, he had no fucking idea what Brian would say or do. As much as he wanted to discuss it with him again, however, he forced his mind away from that subject for the time being, knowing tonight was the night to focus on his father-in-law's achievement instead.

The roar from the crowd continued unabated as Fin finally reached the side of the stage; turning slightly he reached to grasp Tony's hand. His partner hesitated for just a second before, with a radiant smile, he placed his hand in his lover's and together they ascended the stairs at the right side of the stage. Fin's staff, ringing the stage, began to applaud as he walked toward the podium. Breaking his handhold with his partner, he turned to smile over at his son and Justin, nodding his head as a signal for them to join him.

The lights from the constant camera flashes, and the spotlights trained on the new Governor-elect made the stage extremely warm as Brian handed Gus over to Sean before he and Justin walked over to stand next to his father and Tony.

"Thank you," Fin said over and over again as the crowd continued to cheer and applaud while the music continued unabated, drowning out his several initial attempts to quiet them down so he could speak. Behind the podium, Tony reached for his hand and squeezed it proudly before letting it go; his lover looked over at him with tears in his eyes, almost too overwhelmed to speak as the music eventually ended and the crowd finally died down enough for him to address them.

"Thank you," he repeated as they finally became attentive; hundreds of eyes were cast upon him as he began to speak. "Good evening, everyone. I am standing here before you tonight, so humbled and honored to be amidst the best supporters that any gubernatorial candidate could ever have..."

The crowd applauded and whooped boisterously as Fin smiled and waited for them to calm down again. The soft click of camera equipment and shutters going off could be heard as he continued. "This campaign that we waged together was an extremely difficult one. A lot of hurdles and challenges were thrown our way; a lot of bigotry, a lot of innuendo, and a lot of outright falsehoods. Our detractors and adversaries tried hard to knock us off our path, to try and break our determination and our will."

Shouts of "No way!" filtered up to him as he grinned. "You're right," he told them, wavering just a bit from his prepared speech. "They tried...but they didn't succeed." Once more the crowd roared its approval as he peered over at Tony with a smile.

He held up his hand for the crowd noise to die down, waiting several seconds before he continued. "I remember when I first decided to run for Governor. At the time, there were several reasons why I shouldn't have considered it: I was already in a position that wielded considerable influence in the Senate. I was comfortable there, and I knew I was making a difference. I had the chance to continue to work behind the scenes and try to forge ahead with my platform and stay out of the public eye. I also knew that if I ran, right or wrong, my sexual orientation would be exposed to the glare of public scrutiny, and that my partner would be cast into the spotlight as well." He caught Tony's eye then before turning back to his audience.

Taking a deep breath, he told them, "But there were a lot of other reasons why I _did_ need to do it. This great state has been moving on the wrong track for a long time now, and it desperately needs new guidance. It's grown complacent, apathetic, and stale. Don't misunderstand me; it's a wonderful place to live. But it also needs a shot in the arm, a push in the right direction. Tonight, the people of Pennsylvania have spoken and taken that first step to do that." Again, the crowd erupted into shouts and applause for several seconds until Fin once more raised his hand for quiet.

"We will have a long journey to travel now. And the road will be hard at times, even contentious. But I am confident that with your help, we can all make this state a forceful influence and a power to be reckoned with once more!"

This time there was a shorter interruption of applause and cheers before Fin proceeded. "I would be remiss if I did not thank several people who were instrumental in making this dream of mine a reality. First of all, I would like to offer my sincere gratitude to my esteemed opponent, Dean Whittle, for whom I have the utmost respect and admiration. He graciously phoned me earlier to congratulate me and wish me well, and to offer to work alongside me. I will certainly accept his offer, and I look forward to forging new alliances with both parties." There was a polite smattering of applause this time before he continued. "And I would like to thank my campaign staff, all of whom have put in innumerable hours of tiring, relentless work for the past several months to ensure that my message was carried throughout the State. For that, I owe them my undying thanks and gratitude - along with some cabinet positions, no doubt," he joked as the crowd tittered in response.

Fin took a pause for a moment before he looked over at his son, Justin, and Tony. His face warmed as he told the audience, "But I want to give a special thanks to three individuals tonight who are my family. I'd like to first thank Brian, who was my campaign manager. Without his shrewd logistical handling of my campaign and his drive and determination, I would have never succeeded in being here tonight as your Governor-Elect. For the past several months, he has been my confidante, my staunchest defender, and my ballast when things threatened to get out of hand. I will be forever indebted to him for the tenacity and fortitude he displayed under some of the most adverse circumstances anyone could ever encounter in a campaign - and on a personal level, I am so very proud to call him my son."

Turning to gaze over at his son, Fin began to clap, soon followed by not only the audience and his staff on stage, but also by an enthusiastic Tony and Justin. Brian appeared uncomfortable at first, but finally rewarded his father with a slight nod and a soft smile as Fin spoke again.

"I'd also like to thank my son-in-law, Justin, a young man of tremendous courage and compassion. My son-in-law has endured more trauma and challenges than most of us will face in a lifetime, and has met them head-on with both strength and unwavering perseverance. If it hadn't been for his persistence and tenacity, I would have never even known I had such a fine son as Brian. So for that I will be eternally grateful." As the crowd once more broke out into a round of applause, Fin smiled over at Justin, whose face reddened in embarrassment, feeling hundreds of eyes cast on him at the moment.

"And last - but certainly not in any way least - I want to thank my partner, Tony." Fin paused to stare over at his beautiful lover. "For over a decade now, we have been together through thick and thin. He is my rock, my touchstone, and the person who keeps me grounded when this world goes crazy and spins out of control. Despite his own extremely hectic schedule and some very important responsibilities of his own, he has managed to be by my side this past year and constantly support me every step of the way. Tony, I am going to be forever grateful for whatever power brought us together that day we met." He cleared his throat as his sentimental partner's eyes filled with tears. How far they had come since that day Tony had forced him to confront some of his biggest fears and set his priorities straight! In a manner of speaking, he thought with a smile, as the applause - and approving whistles - flared up again before settling down after several seconds.

He took a deep breath as he faced the crowd once more, the flash of cameras from both the media and his well-wishers going off constantly. "I won't lie to you. We will still have a long, arduous road ahead of us, even after this victory. There will still be doubters and naysayers who question the vision we have for this State. But I am confident that with your support - and with conviction on our side - we can make Pennsylvania a force to be reckoned with. This is just the beginning! Thank you all for your support!"

The crowd exploded then as the music started back up - this time to Tom Petty's "I Won't Back Down" - and Fin beamed over the attention, reaching over to slide his arm around Tony's waist to pull him closer. The balloons - along with a deluge of shiny confetti - were released then to rain down upon the crowd as Gus broke from holding Sean's hand to come running onto the stage.

Brian laughed as he and Justin walked over to his side, each man reaching out to capture a couple of red balloons apiece as the confetti showered them on the head. Brian, having anticipated Gus's wish, reached inside his pocket to locate a small pocket knife and some string to tie around some of the balloons for his son.

"Get some more, Daddy!" Gus shouted out in encouragement among the noise as Brian grabbed a couple more and repeated the routine before he scooped him up into his arms, tying his and Justin's balloons lightly around his son's wrist so they wouldn't escape. Standing now in the relative obscurity of the stage's curtain, they gazed out onto the boisterous, delighted crowd in wonder, both men marveling at how far the campaign - and Brian's relationship to his father - had come. It had been quite a ride, but despite some of the heartache and tumult that had followed - both knew it had been worth it.

"Shit," Brian said softly under his breath. "This is fuc...just unbelievable," he corrected himself. "I wasn't sure we would ever get here," he admitted as Gus began to play with some of the balloons like a cat would play with a mouse, batting them back and forth gleefully.

Justin curled his hand around Brian's neck to kiss his cheek. "I know," he shouted out, trying to be heard above the deafening noise. "But he did it! And here we are."

Brian nodded as his grandparents came up to join them; Sean placed a hand on his shoulder and smiled at him. "Well done, Brian!" he praised him as Kathy nodded. "Well done!"

Despite wanting to tell his grandparents it was Fin's night, Brian's eyes still prickled with tears of gratitude. He had never contemplated ever having a family - a _real_ family; at least none beyond Justin, Gus, and his inner circle of friends. Now, within the relative space of a year, he had obtained that and so much more. He could almost feel the love being showered on him now, and it made him both humble as well as astounded in its intensity. "Thanks," he managed to murmur as Justin slowly stroked the hair at the back of his neck.

He looked up as Fin and Tony came walking over to them, the crowd chanting out, "Fin! Fin! Fin!" as he left the stage. Another rowdy tune struck up then - Bruce Springsteen's "No Surrender" - heralding the beginning of a new phase of the celebration - as a huge, five-tiered, round cake was wheeled out onto the middle of the stage, along with three, large, tall, silver coffee urns and paper cups. It was time for some serious partying to ensue as several members of a security detail assigned for the evening began to invite attendees to come up on the stage and partake of the dessert and beverages.

"Cake!" Gus shrieked in jubilation as he stuck his hand straight up into the air like he was announcing a touchdown. Everyone around him laughed as Brian shook his head. "I know a kid who's going to be on a perpetual sugar buzz the rest of the night," he commented dryly. He sighed in resignation. "Come on, Sonny Boy! Let's go get you - and Justin here - a big piece of cake."

Justin opened up his mouth to protest, but then shut it again. He DID want a piece of cake. He grinned as he watched his partner and his son wander over to the rectangular-sized table holding plastic silverware and paper plates to wait for the cake to be cut. Brian took a moment to use his free hand to accept congratulations from several people as they waited in line like everyone else to get their refreshments.

"They're amazing together," Kathy marveled as she observed the tender look on Brian's face as Gus spoke to him animatedly and continued to bat the balloons back and forth like shuttlecocks.

"Yes, they are," Justin agreed with a soft smile. He turned to look over at his father-in-law. "Thank you for what you said about Brian - and me," he told him, a little embarrassed.

"I meant every word," Fin told him sincerely as Tony laid a hand on top of his shoulder. "I have an amazing family; _all _of them." He turned to Sean and Kathy as he told them softly, "I include you in that, too, you know. I'm glad you don't hold any grudges."

Sean and Kathy exchanged a quizzical look between them. "Grudges?" Sean replied.

Fin nodded. "I mean, about Lydia and all, and the fact that I wasn't around to help raise our son."

Kathy smiled in understanding. "Fin, I thought we already settled all that," she chided him. "You had no way of knowing about Brian back then - or even that Lydia was pregnant. Sean and I are just happy that you and Brian have been reunited, and that we can be a part of both your lives - and our great-grandson's."

Fin smiled. "As far as I'm concerned, you always will be, too. Thank you." He took a breath. "You know, I've already received a call from the current governor, asking if I want to come over and take a tour of the Governor's mansion. Want to come with us and get a sneak peek of it tomorrow?"

Sean and Kathy beamed. "It would our pleasure!" Kathy told him as Sean nodded in agreement. "We'd LOVE to see it! I did a little research on it," she admitted as Fin laughed. "Well, I knew you were going to win!" she defended her actions. "Do you know the Governor's mansion has 32 rooms? And it has an amazing flower garden and this huge, screened-in porch!" At Fin's questioning look she explained, "They have a virtual tour online that you can take. But they only show you the first floor; the governor resides on the second floor." She turned to Justin. "You're going to love it there, Justin! There are all kinds of artwork on the walls."

Justin flashed a delighted smile at her; he hadn't thought about that. "That sounds wonderful!" he agreed. "I can't wait to see all of it."

"Well, then, it's settled," Fin told them all with a smile. "The governor wants us to meet him and his wife tomorrow afternoon at 3:00. Would that work out okay?" He turned to look at Tony and smiled as he waggled his eyebrows seductively. "We can decide which bedroom is going to be ours while we're there."

Tony blushed at the thought; his heart leaping at Fin's words. There was no doubt now - especially after his partner's speech earlier, too - that he intended for him to be a crucial part of his life for a long time to come, and that couldn't please him more. Not caring about the crowd around them, he leaned over and impulsively kissed Fin on the cheek, whispering in his ear, "I can't wait."

Fin grinned back at him. "Good - we'll test out the bed while we're there, too."

"Fin!" Tony protested as his lover laughed at the expression on his face. "I think that should wait until after the inauguration, don't you?"

"What? I just meant we could check out how firm it is."

"Oh, I'm sure it's _plenty_ firm," Tony retorted as Fin grinned back at him playfully.

Justin laughed at their antics as he watched Brian returning, juggling a bouncing child in one arm and a vicariously placed paper plate heaped with two, monstrous-sized pieces of chocolate-chip cake in the other. He walked over to his husband to take the plate out of his hands to Brian's relief as he told him, "You weren't kidding when you said Gus would be on a sugar buzz! Brian, those pieces are big enough for three people to eat!"

"Not when it involves you and my son," he deadpanned as Justin glared at him in mock indignation; Brian rolled his lips under and grinned back at him. He slid Gus down gently to the ground, groaning slightly in relief as he was finally rid of his responsibility.

Fin told the group, "Well, I suggest we get out of here, and do a little quieter celebrating with just the family."

Tony frowned. "Can you just leave like that?"

Fin laughed. "I won the election, Counselor; I can do whatever the hell I want." He explained, "I'm going to leave it up to my staff to schedule the obligatory network and radio show appearances for tomorrow morning; I've talked enough tonight and kissed enough asses for the time being." He grimaced as he noticed his grandson eyeing him intently; just like his father, Gus was quite perceptive. "Sorry," he told Brian sheepishly over his language. "Why don't we all head back up to mine and Tony's suite? I'm ready to get out of here."

Brian nodded at his father. "Me, too," he admitted as he reached to hold onto Gus's hand, stooping down to snatch the plate of cake back from his son as he noticed the two slices teetering precariously on top. "I'll hang onto this for now, Sonny Boy," he told his child as the boy pouted slightly in disappointment. He smiled down at him. "Don't worry; I'll take good care of it, and you'll be able to have it up in the room. Gus nodded as he stifled a yawn; Brian wondered just how long the little boy would last once they retreated to a quieter environment. He had an inkling that the cake might have to wait until sometime tomorrow, instead.

"Ready to go?" Fin asked everyone as they nodded. "Let me just inform Don that we're leaving, and then we can get out of here." He turned to walk a few steps over to his friend and head of security, knowing that Don would want an escort for them. Until he was actually sworn in as governor, he couldn't take advantage of the protection the role would provide for him - nor was he looking forward to being followed all the time, actually - but he knew after what he and Brian had encountered over the past several months his friend and security chief wouldn't allow him to travel unescorted.

Tony grabbed onto his partner's sleeve when he returned. "Fin?"

"Yeah?"

He glanced over at the small group standing together as he suggested to his partner, "Maybe we could just go on home and let Sean & Kathy - and Brian and Justin - take advantage of the suite, along with Gus. They can stay there and then meet up with us tomorrow afternoon at the governor's residence."

"You feeling okay?" Fin asked Tony in concern, studying him to see if he appeared out of sorts in any way.

Tony nodded. "I'm feeling fine."

"Then what?"

He replied softly, "I just feel like going back home tonight - just the two of us." He looked over at his friends. "I...I just need to have some private time with Fin..."

"It's okay, Tony," Justin assured his friend. "I think we all understand your feelings. You and Fin go ahead."

"You sure you all don't mind? I admit that sounds pretty good right about now," Fin told them as he slid his arm around Tony's waist, wanting to be alone with his partner as well.

"Go on," Brian told them. "We'll be fine." He glanced up as two beefy-looking, muscular men who appeared to be in their mid-twenties came walking over, obviously to be Fin's escorts for the evening. He thought he saw a look cross Justin's and Tony's faces before his father and Tony bade them all goodbye, the shouts of well-wishers ringing in the new Governor-elect's ears as Fin waved to all of them before heading toward the side exit; a few seconds later, they disappeared out of sight, the party still in full swing as they left it behind.

* * *

_Same Time - Debbie and Carl's House_

Debbie quietly opened up the door to her and Carl's home as Carl walked in, carrying a conked-out Alex in his strong arms. "Put her on the couch, Honey," she instructed him as he nodded and carried her over to the well-loved, corduroy piece of furniture, gingerly depositing the lightweight child down onto the cushions.

Walking over to join him, Debbie reached to grab the crocheted throw over the back of the couch to place it over the girl, watching as Alex burrowed deeper into the cushions as she continued to snooze, oblivious to her surroundings. The girl had grown sleepy on the way home after attending the celebration at Babylon for Fin's election; by the time they had traveled only a few miles, she was fast asleep in the backseat of the car.

"What are we going to do with her, Carl?" Debbie whispered from her place at the kitchen table a few minutes later; unlike their temporary charge who was out like a light, both adults were too wired up after Fin's victory to go to bed yet. "She looks so...angelic right now."

Carl snorted softly as he took a sip from his decaf coffee. "She's anything but that, Sweetheart."

"I know," Debbie admitted as she continued to stare over at the sleeping girl. "But can you blame her after what she's been through?"

Carl sighed. "No, I guess not." He paused for a moment before he ventured to ask, "Debbie, you're not seriously thinking of trying to keep her here, are you? She would be a huge responsibility - and let's face it; neither one of us is getting any younger. No matter how much you might want to, we're just not physically able to keep up with her."

Debbie sighed as she nursed the warm mug in her hands. "I know," she replied wistfully as she watched Alex turn onto her side and clutch the throw to her chest. "But I feel so sorry for her, Carl, after everything she's been through. When I think about that - and her having to go to some foster home, it just tears me up inside." Her eyes prickled with tears as she gazed over at her.

"Honey, foster families are screened very carefully and they're trained to provide good, quality care..."

"...yeah, and some of them merely become foster parents so they can get the extra money that goes along with it."

Carl brushed his hand through his sparse head of hair. "Yeah, they exist," he conceded. "The vast majority of them are involved for the right reasons, though."

"Maybe," she told him grudgingly. "But I still hate the idea of her winding up with someone she doesn't even know. She's just now starting to feel somewhat comfortable with us, and we're just now developing a bond with her; so now we're going to yank whatever security she's feeling out from under her again? How fair is that?" she whispered.

"Debbie..."

"It just kills me to think about it."

"Debbie, you can't rescue every lost soul that comes along, you know that," Carl gently chided her as he reached over to squeeze her hand.

"I know. Carl...?" Debbie's voice took on a different tone then.

"Yeah?"

"I'm not giving up on finding her a good home, a loving home. If she can't stay here with us, perhaps there's another alternative. Just because WE can't be her foster parents doesn't mean that everyone else we know can't."

Carl eyed her suspiciously; he knew that look, and he had a strange feeling he knew where she was going with their conservation. "Debbie...stay out of it, and let the courts handle it; they know best."

Debbie's eyes flashed. "I will not! This kid's life is on the line! It won't hurt me to talk to them."

Carl sighed heavily. "I'm afraid to ask, because I think I already know. But who are we talking about?"

"You know who. Justin is such a nurturing type of person, and..."

"...and Brian would be dead set against it!" Carl hissed under his breath. "Debbie, he would never agree to that! The girl racked up a huge bill on his credit card! Or have you forgotten?"

"I haven't forgotten," she retorted defensively, careful not to speak too loudly for fear she would wake Alex up. "But inside that girl is a bruised soul wanting to escape. Brian of all people should understand what that's like. He didn't exactly have a great childhood growing up, either, you know," she pointed out. "If anyone should be able to figure out what makes her tick, it's Brian. And if Sunshine asks him to do it; well, you know he can never say no to him. He never _has_ been able to."

Carl glanced over at the young girl currently huddled under the homemade, crocheted throw, noticing her stirring in her sleep. He wondered what it was she was dreaming about as he suggested to Debbie, "Let's turn in for the night and discuss this upstairs, okay?"

Debbie agreed with a nod as she took their cups and quietly placed them into the sink. Making sure all the doors were locked and a nightlight was left on over the sink for Alex, she and Carl quietly proceeded up the stairs to their bedroom, unaware that a certain young girl had overheard everything they had said. Alex clutched the crochet tighter to her chest in the semi-darkness, blinking as the tears trickled down her cheek.

* * *

_Midmorning - Fin and Tony's home in Harrisburg_

Fin wrinkled his nose as he smelled the distinctive aroma of freshly brewed coffee and chocolate chip muffins from his favorite bakery. He smiled without even opening his eyes as he murmured, "Mmmm...My favorite combination: coffee, muffins, and my partner - preferably my _naked_ partner." Slowly he opened his eyes to discover he had gotten his wish; Tony was sitting on the edge of the bed holding a small, oval platter with a couple of his favorite bagels and a large, steaming mug of coffee, naked as the day he was born. He smiled into the twinkling, blue eyes of his lover as he told him, "I guess wishes really DO come true."

Tony placed the platter down beside him on the bed as he reached to tear off a big bite of the warm muffin, holding it near Fin's mouth between two of his fingers. "Open up, Mr. Governor-elect," Tony told him huskily with a sexy smile.

"My favorite words," Fin replied as he scooted up into the bed and rested his upper torso against the headboard.

"What...Governor-elect?"

"No...Open up," Fin replied saucily as Tony blushed. He grinned at him as he opened his mouth and allowed his beautiful, blond-haired partner to slide the large chunk of soft, sweet bread between his lips. Tony found it quite erotic as Fin swirled his tongue around his fingers before he slowly withdrew them from his lover's mouth. "Fin..." he began, his heart pounding in reaction to the feelings he was engendering.

"Hmm?" Fin reached to grab the coffee and take a sip, savoring the smooth, robust flavor as it slid down his throat.

Tony smiled. "I'm glad we decided to come back to our house instead of staying at the hotel suite last night." He crawled over Fin's upper body to settle beside him with his back against the headboard. He placed his chin on Fin's shoulder as he watched him pick at the bagel in between sips of coffee. There was something so...domestic about watching his lover eat, and it turned him on to no end for some reason. It was a simple ritual the two of them shared each morning. But it helped to ground them and to keep them sane. No doubt both of them would be needing that coming up. "You're not disappointed, are you?" he asked softly.

Fin turned his head as their lips met for a brief kiss. "Disappointed to come back home, fuck your brains out in our king-sized bed, and be served breakfast in bed the next morning by the sexiest attorney in the state?" He grinned. "What do YOU think, Counselor?" His face turned serious then as he recalled what he and his son-in-law had discussed yesterday. "Tony, I want you to know something."

Tony eyed him intently. "What?" he asked.

"Up there last night...on that podium. I want you to know that I meant every word of it." He carefully placed his coffee mug down onto the oval tray as he turned to cup his partner's face in his hands. His lover's watery, blue eyes bored into his and he could hear Tony's quiet breathing as he told him, "You mean more to me than anything else in my life. I know how my election as governor will probably turn our lives upside down in a lot of ways, and I know you're a little apprehensive about that; so am I, to be honest," he admitted. "My stomach's been doing somersaults inside ever since I walked out onto that podium to give my speech." He gazed into Tony's eyes. "You've had to put up with a lot these past several months. Despite all that, however, you're still here, even though you could have any man you want - and without all the excess baggage that comes with me." He realized that all too well. That was the most ironic part of all. Yes, he was a powerful, influential, and handsome man in his own right. But his partner could more than hold himself up to the same comparison, if not more so - and find someone a lot less complicated.

Tony felt his partner's fingers lightly stroking his skin as he responded simply, "I love you, Fin. I wouldn't dream of being anywhere else - or _with_ anyone else."

Fin slowly slid his hands down to lie on either side of Tony's neck as he pressed, "Even if it means sacrificing our much-coveted privacy for the next several years, and completely changing the way we do even the smallest of things?"

Tony sighed. "Well, I admit I'm not exactly relishing that thought. But unless there are closed-circuit cameras set up in the private residence floor of the governor's mansion, not _everything _will be open to scrutiny."

Fin grinned. "Well, I'll see that we have plenty of black electrical tape on hand just in case. But you'll still have to learn to tone down your 'vocal appreciation' of my talents when we fuck just in case the walls are thin."

Tony snorted as he smacked Fin on the chest. "You are SO full of it, Fintan O'Connor!" he growled. "I'm not the ONLY one who will need to exhibit some restraint in that area."

Fin grinned as he reached to place Tony's hand over his quickly burgeoning cock. "You're right. I'm extremely full right now, as a matter of fact. Maybe we should do some practicing."

Tony beamed. "Now you're talking."

* * *

_Mid-Afternoon...Governor's Mansion_

"It's okay, Stud," Justin whispered in his lover's ear as he smiled over the expression on Brian's face. "I'll protect you from being licked to death." Brian was eyeing the governor's two Airedale terriers, Penny and Harry dubiously, deciding they were just a bit too perky for his taste. They were apparently given free reign of the private areas of the grounds whenever the governor and his wife were home, and were presently running around the South Garden with Gus. Gus, for his part, was having a ball with them as he took turns throwing a large stick for one and then the other, shrieking in delight as they brought it back and threw it down at his feet for yet another round, time and time again. Sean and Kathy were standing nearby, keeping an eye on their great grandson and wondering whether boy or canine would give up first.

"I don't mind being licked," Brian clarified huskily under his breath, enjoying making his partner blush in reaction. "If it's in the right setting - and by the right party."

Justin felt his face warming. "Keep your voice down," he scolded him, looking over at the current governor and his wife to make sure they didn't overhear them. Fortunately, they were too busy discussing the history of the grounds with Fin and Tony to pay them much mind at the moment.

"This place is unbelievable," Justin marveled as he peered over at the large, two-and-a-half story Georgian mansion built on the banks of the Susquehanna River that afforded an impressive view of the gently rolling terrain. Four distinct garden areas highlighted native trees and flowers from points throughout the state on the property, including the state tree, the hemlock, and one area devoted to a 'living museum' of oaks, maples and flowering dogwood trees that provided a carpet of color throughout most of the year. A rose garden was situated in one corner, interspersed with a meandering, brick-lined path that identified each type of rose with a small, educational plaque for visitors; several wooden benches were placed throughout the walkway, inviting strollers to rest and just enjoy the variety of color and the intoxicating scent of the flowers when they were in full bloom. "I'm looking forward to seeing the inside of this place."

"Well, it looks like you're about to get your wish, Sunshine," Brian told him as he heard their host and hostess bidding his father and Tony goodbye, explaining that they were due for some important state function later that evening in town. They had instructed the housekeeping staff earlier to provide the new Governor-Elect and his companions with any assistance they might need during their absence, graciously instructing Fin to make himself at home and spend as much time as he liked inside the residence or admiring the grounds while they were gone. After all, they told him, it wouldn't be too long before it was his home rather than theirs. With a polite thank you, then, to the man and his wife, Fin and Tony walked over to stand beside his son and Justin as the dogs scampered after their master and Brian called for his son to join them.

"Isn't this place amazing?" Tony murmured to Justin, who nodded with a smile. "I can't wait to see the stables out back! The Governor told us there's enough room to board our own horses here, so at least we can ride them here on the grounds while we live here. And they have two separate kitchens - one for state dinners, and one for the family's dinners. I bet their appliances are state of the art, too. I can't wait to get my hands dirty in there," he told Justin with a grin over at his partner, who shook his head in amusement.

"That's great, Tony!" Justin told him, happy that his friend seemed a little more at ease now that they could get a better look at where he and Fin would be living soon. "I want to take a look at all the artwork inside; I hear it holds some well-known works by several state artists. And there are several sculptures around the grounds, too, especially commissioned for placement here; they're one of a kind that you can't see anywhere else."

Brian sighed. "If you two ladies can hold off swapping any more recipes for the time being, I'd like to see the inside," he quipped; two pairs of blue eyes glared over at him in indignation as Fin laughed.

"Come on; they told me we need to walk around to the back and enter by the brick patio," he told them as he slid his arm around Tony's waist, emboldened by the large, brick wall built around this part of the grounds to provide privacy for the Governor and his family. "Let's go look inside," he suggested, his eyes alit with excitement like a kid in a candy store.

"Sean! Kathy!" he called over to the older couple. "We're going inside; you coming?" They nodded enthusiastically as they hurried over toward them, still ogling the meticulously cared-for grounds, Gus on their heels as he skipped along beside them.

"Yeah, let's go take a look!" Justin agreed instantly as he grabbed Brian's hand and began to eagerly pull him toward the back of the house. His husband rolled his eyes in response, but nevertheless humored him as the small group walked around to a large, brick patio built at the back of the house, surrounded by two tall, wooden trellises on two sides that provided a decent amount of privacy from unwelcome, prying eyes. At the back of the property where the patio was open sat a high hedgerow that reinforced the feeling of being alone, a fact for which Tony was eternally grateful. As he looked around the grounds, he kept finding other areas that, through creative landscaping, provided varying degrees of shelter from the public - not to mention certain areas that were cordoned off with security fencing - that visitors could not breach. That fact began to make him feel more confident that perhaps his and Fin's lives wouldn't be totally disrupted by what was about to happen.

* * *

Five minutes later, the group was inside the home, being led around by one of the governor's most trusted, long-time aides; normally an unpaid, volunteer guide would conduct tours for the thousands of visitors who transcended upon the residence for a peek at the first floor and grounds only. They were told that the public was allowed to visit and tour parts of the residence and grounds on certain days of the week and times of the year: Tuesdays and Thursdays from 10:00 a.m. to 2:00 p.m. during the months of April, May, June, September and October, with holiday tours each December. All other times the residence was strictly off-limits to non-invited guests.

"I guess we'll have to adjust our fucking schedule accordingly," Fin whispered in his partner's ear as Tony blushed a bright red; truth be told, he was thinking kind of the same thing, only in jest. He was enormously relieved that the public could only be present during a small part of the day, normally when he would be at work and Fin, no doubt in his new role as Governor, would be involved with state matters, so perhaps this arrangement wouldn't be such a horrendous situation after all. Plus, the public was forbidden from accessing the upstairs residence through several locked doors manned at all times by the governor's security staff.

"So I can give the head of the security detail a list of who is allowed to visit me unrestricted?" Fin questioned the older, gray-haired, slender man - a gentleman by the name of Loren Everettson.

Everettson nodded his head politely. "Yes, Sir, that's correct. They will all need to be registered on an official list established by you in order to have unlimited access, however; otherwise, guests who come to visit you for state functions will be restricted to the lower levels of the home."

Fin nodded as the man turned and headed toward the main lobby of the first floor. "I'll be happy to guide you around the downstairs," he explained as he led them toward one of the doors on the left. "And then the Governor informed me to allow you free reign upstairs so you can get used to the layout of the private floor before January."

"Make sure you thank the Governor for his hospitality," he told Everettson, who nodded.

"This way, please," he told them as he held his hand out in a sweeping gesture as the group preceded him into the room. "This first room is the formal dining room for state dinners and other large functions," he explained as everyone's mouths dropped open in astonishment.

"Holy..." Tony began as he and the others eyed the enormously long table. "How many...?"

"Twenty seats in all," he was told politely as Tony looked over at Fin in shock. Everettson pointed to a wood carving hanging on the wall at the far end. "That is the Pennsylvania Coat of Arms," he told them as Justin began to slowly walk along the walls, admiring all the paintings hanging there while the group headed toward the next room on the tour.

Brian grinned as he exchanged a knowing look with his father. "Uh...Picasso," he intoned from the doorway as the group stood near the door. "You can drool over them later," he told him as Justin turned around to peer over at him sheepishly, not even aware everyone else was waiting on him. He hurried over to join them as Brian reached quietly to grasp his hand and squeeze it, his other hand resting lightly on his son's head.

* * *

Thirty minutes later, the group was finally alone upstairs to get their first look at the private part of the Governor's residence - the second floor that Fin and Tony would call their home for the next few years. Just like the first floor, the rooms were filled with heavy, Elizabethan, stuffed furniture and a multitude of antiques, along with several, expensive, original oil paintings and art sculptures by well-known, Pennsylvanian artists.

"How many bedrooms does this place have?" Sean asked as they all looked inside one of the larger ones that held a king-sized bed, a sitting area, and a corner office. "This one's almost as big as our entire downstairs," he told his wife in amazement.

Kathy peered down at the brochure the security aide had given them; it was blatantly 'touristy,' but it still answered some of their questions. "Well, it doesn't say, but it has a total of 28,600 square feet," she reported.

"...And it's all apparently up here," Fin declared as he cupped his hands around his mouth and in true, Swiss Alps fashion, called out "Hello? Hello?" Gus giggled as his grandfather told the others, "See? Did you hear that echo? Tony and I will need an intercom system just to find out where the other person is up here."

"Speaking of which, where's Justin?" Brian asked as he looked around, suddenly realizing his husband had slipped away somehow.

Fin frowned. "I don't know; he was just here a few minutes ago."

Brian rolled his eyes as he shook his head. "I'll send out the St. Bernard," he deadpanned with a grin as he turned to look at his grandparents. "Will you keep an eye on Gus for a few minutes while I go find him? I've already lost one member of the family; I don't want to lose another one."

Gus's eyes grew large and round; he had studied breeds of dogs in school. "Is there another dog up here?" he asked in excitement.

Brian grinned. "No, Sonny Boy, that was just an expression. I'll explain later," he told him fondly.

"Is Jus'n lost, Daddy?" Gus asked then, scrunching up his nose in concern.

Brian smiled tenderly at him. "No, he's around here somewhere, Gus," he assured him. "You stay here and I'll be right back with him, okay?" Gus nodded as Kathy reached to clasp his hand. Brian smiled at her in thankfulness before turning to head down the wide hallway, opening up one door and then the others as he peeked inside to try and find his wayward husband.

"Wherever he is, you can bet he's looking at something to do with art," Tony decided as he turned to look over at Fin who was several feet away; his partner was peering inside yet another open doorway leading into a room located at the far end of the hall. "Tony, come here," he told him, his voice edged with excitement.

Tony walked over to his partner's side as Sean and Kathy squired Gus around into a nearby recreation room; the two men could hear Gus's elated voice as he discovered a regulation-sized pool table in the room, and a few seconds later the clack of a ball hitting another ball could be heard.

"What is it?" Tony asked as he walked up to his partner.

Fin grinned widely. "Our new bedroom," he told him as he reached over to grasp Tony's upper arm. "Have a look at this." He pulled Tony further into the spacious room as his lover's eyes opened wide. It had a trey ceiling over a monstrously huge, king-sized bed; a matching desk and chair were situated directly to the right. The room - with its large, heavy furniture and green and gold tones - definitely had a masculine feel to it. An antique loveseat was located in front of a wall of windows from where both men could see what appeared to be a second-floor balcony.

The two partners walked deeper into the room, looking around to study all the furnishings. They could see an attached bathroom over in the opposite corner now, next to what looked like a walk-in closet. "What do you think?" Fin asked softly, needing to get his partner's approval. It was important to him that Tony approved of wherever they wound up; this was going to be his house just as much as his, and he wanted him to be happy with his choice of bedroom. "Do you like this one?"

Tony shook his head in awe. "Fin, every room in this house in incredible!" he told him. He walked over to the door that led out to what was, indeed, a balcony with a wrought-iron railing; a grove of mature trees could be seen at the back of the property. He opened up the door and walked over to place his hands along the top of the railing, a light, surprisingly warm breeze washing over his face. It was extremely quiet at the moment, with all the visitors gone and the Governor and his wife off to attend their function. He could almost imagine that he and Fin were the only two people left on Earth right now. _If only..._

He felt his partner's arms slide around his waist as he sighed in contentment and leaned back into his embrace, everyone else and all their concerns temporarily pushed aside.

"Reminds me of our balcony back home," Fin murmured. He turned Tony around in his arms to stare down into the beautiful, familiar face of his partner. "Tony, I want you to be happy here..."

Tony smiled wistfully up at him. "I know. And I will be," he assured him, a little more convinced of that now. "I'm happy wherever you are, my love. As long as we're together - and our entire life isn't broadcast all over the place - it'll be fine." He paused. "I admit before we came here today I was pretty apprehensive about moving here. But now that I've seen it - and now that I know our privacy will be upheld - I feel a little better about the whole thing."

Fin nodded as he held him in his arms. "Tony, you know I'll do everything I can to protect our privacy, even if it means personally employing more security personnel on my own dime to ensure that." He took a deep breath and let it out. "But you know just because of our - 'unique' circumstances - our relationship will be more open to scrutiny than any other Governor in history." He slowly stroked Tony's lower back as Tony placed his hands on Fin's shoulders. "Tony, if there's anything that you..."

"Shhh," Tony murmured as he placed his fingers across Fin's lips to silence him. "It's okay," he assured him. "We're in this together...and if anyone dares to trespass on our property, I know a kick-ass attorney we can call." He grinned as he looked through the door and back into the ostentatious room. "Besides, for a prison this isn't half bad," he teased, sobering when he noticed a flicker of concern cross his lover's face. "I'm just kidding, Fin," he quickly verified as he placed his hand back on his partner's right shoulder. Leaning up on his tiptoes, he brushed a kiss across his lover's lips. "Why don't we go find the others now, and show them our new bedroom?"

Fin brushed some hair back from his partner's forehead. "I love you, you know," he murmured as he stared into the bright, blue eyes, at once saying very little but so much, too. "How I got so damn lucky..."

"We both got lucky, Senator," Tony responded firmly. He shook his head slightly. "I guess I'd better start calling you 'Guv' instead," he added with a twinkle in his eye.

Fin grimaced. "Uh, no...That sounds so _My Fair Lady._ Fin will be just fine."

Tony grinned. "Actually, I prefer Hot Stuff."

Fin laughed as he swooped in for one additional, quick kiss. "Well, let's save that one later for the bedroom, Counselor."

Tony beamed. "Okay. I guess we'd better go see where the others are, then...Mr. Hot Stuff."

Fin rolled his eyes as he grabbed Tony by the wrist and began to lead him toward the door heading out into the hall, unable to hide the smile on his face.

* * *

_Earlier..._

Brian sighed as he poked his head into Door No. Eight and once more came up empty. Was WAS he? And how many rooms were up here on this floor? There was only one more room on this end, so if he wasn't there he didn't know WHERE to look. Walking over to turn the handle, he noticed it was apparently the access door to the partial floor upstairs; a metal, spiral staircase led upward. Something telling him this space would probably appeal to his artistic, creative husband, he began to ascend the winding staircase, poking his head up as he reached the landing. He smiled as he peered around and spotted his wayward husband standing in front of a large, stain-glass window depicting some type of landscape scene.

The entire area was one, big, long dormer room, with floor-to-ceiling, stain-glass windows on either end of the space. It appeared to be a sort of studio apartment, with a large, king-sized bed, a dresser, small kitchenette on one end, and a living area/study at the other end complete with a small couch, coffee table, recliner, desk, and chair. Brian guessed it was probably used as a type of guest room from the looks of it, and it looked ideal for his and Justin's future 'visits.'

Walking quietly over to his husband's side, he whispered, "What are you doing here?"

Justin turned around and grinned, seemingly unsurprised that Brian had found him. His grin became even wider as he played his role perfectly. "Waiting for you."

The years seemed to slide away then as Brian walked closer and slid his arms around his husband's slender waist. He swooped in to kiss Justin, only to have him dodge his lips at the last minute. Smiling coyly at him, Justin leaned in to nuzzle his neck, licking a stripe of saliva up his jawline before he finally captured his lips. Pressing his advantage, it didn't take much persuasion when his tongue slid between Brian's lips for his husband to open his mouth to give him deeper access. Pulling Justin even closer, Brian bit back a moan as their lower bodies ground together, their mutual arousals clearly apparent as they eventually broke off their kiss.

Justin found himself coming back down to reality then as Brian began to unbutton his shirt, his intentions quite clear. "Brian, what are you doing? We're _in the Governor's mansion_!"

His husband smirked. "Well, the governor TOLD us to make ourselves at home, didn't he?"

Justin's heart pounded in excitement over the possible thrill of being caught as his brain tried to knock some sense into him. "Brian...We can't do this here." His attempt at being logical sounded extremely weak, however; it was too hard to concentrate at the moment as he openly admired his handsome husband whose eyes were boring into his with that smoldering, _I'm going to fuck you so hard_ look. Brian had on a black, silk shirt, unbuttoned a few buttons at the top and exposing some glorious expanse of golden skin, with a pair of tight, skinny jeans and some low-cut boots. His hair had that messed-up, bad-boy look that always made him extremely horny, and this was no exception.

"Come on, Sunshine! I've been working hard lately, and I need to blow off some steam - emphasis on the 'blow' part," he added huskily. "So don't go getting all Victorian prude on me now." He resumed his eager unbuttoning of his husband's shirt as Justin grasped him by the shoulders to steady himself, clearly torn over what to do but knowing his common sense was quickly flying out the window. "Shower," he finally managed to gasp out after Brian finished unbuttoning his shirt and stole another deep kiss from him.

His husband flashed a sexy smile at him in satisfaction as they pulled back, walking Justin backward toward the bedroom side of the room. "I knew you would see it my way," he grinned as he pushed him toward what appeared to be the bathroom.

* * *

_Fifteen Minutes Later..._

"You're back!" Kathy exclaimed as Fin and Tony rejoined them out in the hallway. "We were playing a little pool with Gus. Any sign of Justin and Brian?"

Fin shook his head. "Haven't seen them." He smiled at Tony. "But we found the bedroom we want; wait until you see it!"

Kathy smiled. "I'd like to. But first we'd better find the rest of our group." Just then, they heard a door open and shut, and the missing members of their party emerged.

Gus scrunched up his face thoughtfully as his father and Justin came quietly walking over to join them. "Did you get dirty, Daddy?" he asked his father curiously, noting his father's - and Justin's - changed appearance. Both men clearly had damp hair like they had just come out of a shower, although the rest of them appeared to be dry. Their faces seemed flushed, though, for some reason.

Justin averted his eyes as Brian explained, "Yeah, Sonny Boy. I got really dirty when Justin and I went to check out some of the other rooms - and we had to take a shower to clean up afterward."

"Brian!" Kathy exclaimed in shock as Fin and Tony covered their mouths to keep from laughing along with Sean, who grinned. Gus merely nodded as if it were the most natural response in the world; after all, whenever he got dirty, that's what his mothers always made HIM do. "Was it a big shower?" he asked his father innocently.

Brian grinned as he curled his arm around Justin's shoulder and pulled him closer, giving him a quick peck on the cheek. "Big enough," he whispered with a smirk as Justin blushed, clearly broadcasting that they had done much more than just clean up. He looked over at his father. "I think we've found the perfect guest room for when we come to visit you...that is, if you want us to." For just a moment, he sounded unsure of himself; that still happened whenever he was around Fin, although moments like that were becoming rarer.

"Of course I do," Fin instantly assured him, almost affronted that he would even have to ask. "I'm expecting it. You know that you and Justin - and anyone else here," he added as he looked over at Sean and Kathy, "...will be welcome here anytime." He smiled over at his grandson, currently being held in the arms of his great grandfather. "And guess what, Gus? There's a big stable here with a couple of ponies to ride...and a boat dock. You - and your great grandfather and anyone else who comes here with you - can go out on the river anytime you want. I bet there's lot of fish in that water, too."

"If they're edible," Brian muttered under his breath, wondering how palatable fish out of the Susquehanna would be.

"Yay!" Gus cried out in excitement, oblivious to his father's concern. "Can we come back tomorrow?"

Brian laughed. "Not so fast, Buddy. Your grandfather's not going to be living here for a few months yet." He walked over to stand in front of his son, lightly curving his hand around his child's expressive face as he pouted slightly in reaction. He smiled tenderly at him as he told him, "I promise the very first day that your grandfather is living here that we will come to visit him and Tony. And we'll do some horseback riding and fishing together, okay?" He looked over at his father, who smiled and nodded in agreement.

Justin swallowed the sentimental lump in his throat as the child wrapped his arms around his father's neck to hug him tightly as Brian gave him a kiss on the cheek and pulled him into arms. _He's such a wonderful father_, he couldn't help thinking. _He would be the same way with one of ours_. Not that he didn't think of Gus that way already; but he couldn't help thinking about having a little one at Britin to raise, one that he and Brian could nurture from Day One and watch him or her grow up.

He bit his lip as he pushed that thought aside for now, though; but he knew the time was coming soon when he and Brian would need to discuss it once and for all.

"Did you hear that, Jus'n?" Gus asked him as he turned around to stare over at the little boy whose face was aglow with happiness. "Daddy's going to let me come back and ride the ponies! And we're going to go fishing!"

Justin smiled affectionately at the little boy. "That's wonderful, Gus," he told him. And he meant it; only his face did not quite reflect it. To everyone but Brian, he looked fully involved and happy for Gus. But Brian knew. He knew there was something going on in his husband's mind, and he could see it in the slightly reduced smile and in his eyes. He resolved when they returned to Britin he would find out exactly what it was, too.

* * *

_That Evening..._

"That was so great," Justin sighed as he and Brian lay in their bed at Britin, fully sated, sweaty, and sticky.

"Of course it was," Brian intoned smugly.

Justin rolled his eyes, instantly ascertaining that they were talking about two different things. "Not the sex," he clarified as Brian's eyes widened in disbelief. He chuckled at Brian's reaction as he turned onto his side and placed his left hand on Brian's chest. "I mean, that's always great, you idiot," he told him with a grin. "I meant being able to tour the Governor's residence yesterday where Fin and Tony are going to live. I think Tony feels a lot more at ease now."

"Yeah, I feel a lot more at ease, too," Brian told him as he wrapped an arm around Justin's back. "It's been a long time since we fucked twice within 24 hours; we have a lot of making up to do."

"Brian..."

Brian curled his lips under. "Yeah, okay. I think he feels better about it now, too. I don't think I would like living there, though. We've had enough of our lives being put under a microscope lately. I'm going to enjoy some much-needed private time now...with _you_. I want our lives to get back to normal finally."

Brian noticed - not for the first time - that Justin's face clouded over slightly in response to his statement. He frowned in concern. "Justin, what's on your mind?"

"What do you mean?"

"You looked kind of lost in thought just now. Kind of like you did earlier at the Governor's residence. What's going on?" He lightly stroked his husband's back reassuringly, silently telling him he could discuss anything with him.

He could see the hesitation in Justin's face as he pressed him earnestly, "Tell me, Sunshine."

Justin bit his lip. Was this the right time to bring up the nursery again? Everything was finally returning back to normal. The campaign was over and they could resume their typical lives now. Was it fair, then, to spring the issue of a child on Brian now? But the fire and the craving for it remained unabated, and Brian _had_ promised once the campaign was over that they would discuss it in depth. He supposed, then, that now was as good a time as any, whatever his answer would be. He took a deep breath. "Brian..." he began, only to have his husband's cellphone go off at the same time. He groaned softly in frustration as he flopped down onto his back on the mattress.

"I'll ignore it," Brian told him. "Talk to me."

Justin sighed. "No, it's okay. It could be Fin needing you for something, or someone at Kinnetik," he decided, knowing most people wouldn't be calling so late unless it was an emergency. "Go ahead; it's okay. It'll wait."

"Are you sure?"

Justin nodded as he reached out and squeezed Brian's shoulder. "Yeah, it's fine," he assured him as Brian nodded.

He reached over with his other hand to snag his cellphone from the nightstand, glancing at the caller I.D. He shook his head as he recognized the number on the other end. "I don't believe this..." He took a breath before answering. "Deb..."

"Hi, Honey!" was the chirp on the other end. "Congratulations, Mr. Campaign Manager!" Her voice was so loud that Justin had no trouble hearing the excitement in her voice.

"What a pleasant surprise. I wasn't expecting your call...at," he glanced down at his phone display, "...1 a.m."

"Well, I couldn't sleep," she told him. "How's Sunshine?"

Brian exchanged an amused look at his husband as he told her, "Just peachy," he quipped. "I just fucked his brains out."

"Brian!"

Debbie snorted on the other end. "Making up for lost time?"

Brian grinned. "Something like that, but we have a long way to go." He paused. "To what do I owe the pleasure, Deb?" He held out his hand toward Justin in a sort of apology.

"We need to talk."

"Now?"

"No, not now, you asshole. In person. What are you doing later? After _that_."

Brian looked over at Justin before he realized he couldn't avoid a meeting with his 'second mother.' He sighed in resignation. "Looks like I'm going to be entertaining a guest."

"Damn straight," she told him firmly. "I'll be there at noon. I'll bring lunch. Alex is coming with me. Tell Sunshine I send my love." There was a click on the other end as Debbie promptly hung up.

Justin laughed as Brian shook his head in exasperation, ending the call as he placed his phone back onto the nightstand. "Great. Not only is Hurricane Debbie coming out, but she's bringing that little brat with her. Tell me again why I got involved with that kid in the first place?"

Justin scooted over closely to tenderly stroke the back of his hand against Brian's cheek. "Because you're a big softly underneath that exterior," he told him as Brian chuffed at the thought. "Don't try to deny it either, Kinney; I know better."

Brian sighed; he knew there was no point in trying to dispute it. Once Justin had come along, all his previous rules had somehow changed. "Just when we think our lives are getting back on track..." He let the sentence hang there as he curved his arm around Justin's shoulder to pull him halfway onto his chest. His eyes darkened as their cocks brushed together, feeling his desire building once more, as they kissed. A few minutes later, Justin was straddling Brian's chest as he rode up and down on his husband's cock in the throes of passion, his previous intention to speak to Brian about the nursery temporarily forgotten.


	38. Yearning

_The issue of what to do with Alex rises to the surface during a visit from her and Debbie. Are she and Brian really that much different from each other?_

* * *

**_~There is a desire within each of us, in the deep center of ourselves that we call our heart. We were born with it, it is never completely satisfied, and it never dies. We are often unaware of it, but it is always awake._**

It is the human desire for love. Every person on this earth yearns to love, to be loved, to know love. Our true identity, our reason for being is to be found in this desire. ~Gerald May

* * *

_Britin - 11:50 a.m._

"I think I hear voices."

Brian snickered from his place next to the built-in barbeque grill as he waved some smoke away from his face. "You been buying some bad E from someone, Sunshine?" Even with it being early November, the day was surprisingly pleasant; an unexpected, warm air mass coming up from the south had pushed the temperature into the lower 70's, and both men were taking advantage of the unseasonably warm weather to eat outside, perhaps one last time before the cold really did set in for the next several months. Brian - having developed a love of grilling outdoors - had wasted no time in firing up the built-in grill.

Justin rolled his eyes. "Not _those_ kind of voices! I mean..."

"_Sunshine_!" Debbie screeched as she appeared around the back of the house, carrying a large, handled, vinyl, casserole dish carrier. "Come and help me with this." Swinging from her left arm was a white, plastic grocery bag, and Alex was following along glumly behind her, none too pleased to have been drafted into mess duty on her day off from helping at the diner. To her, this felt too much like working.

"Tell me again why I'm here?" she groused, a large bowl of pasta salad balanced in her hands.

"Because I needed the help, you needed to get to know my boys better - and because I promised to box your ears if you didn't cooperate."

"Oh, yeah..._that's_ why," she replied glumly as Justin came hurrying over from his place on the back patio to reach for the still-warm casserole dish.

"There's more out front," Debbie informed him as she held it away at arm's length. "Let me take the casserole and you can go get the rest out of the car."

Justin laughed. "Debbie, we _do_ stock food here - and Brian's grilling some steak burgers for sandwiches."

Debbie eyed him reproachfully. "Are you saying you don't want any of my world famous, homemade macaroni and cheese casserole, pasta salad or any of my pomegranate cheesecake?"

"No, I didn't say that," Justin immediately backpedaled, his mouth salivating at the mere thought; her cheesecake was his most favorite dessert. He was certainly not going to pass _that_ up.

She nodded with a smile of satisfaction. "That's better."

Justin laughed. "I'll be right back," he told her as he headed toward the front of the house.

Debbie walked over and placed the casserole holder down onto one of the round patio tables. "No, that goes in the fridge," Debbie instructed Alex as she began to place the large container of salad down beside it. "You trying to poison us all with salmonella?"

Alex rolled her eyes and muttered under her breath as she headed toward the back of the house. "Don't tempt me."

"I heard that!" Debbie called over to her as Brian guffawed in amusement.

"How big IS this house?" the girl wondered as she stared up at the massive structure. "Did this used to be a convent or something?"

Brian smirked. "Trust me, it wasn't - and never WILL be - a _convent_." Alex scowled at him as she wedged the salad bowl between her arm and her body to slide the glass door open to enter. "Actually, it used to be an orphanage before we bought it. The shackles and torture racks are still down in the basement. I'll be glad to take you on a personal tour and demonstrate..."

"No thanks," Alex told him dryly as she finally managed to pull the door open and step inside. With one last glare over at Brian, who chuckled over his joke, she pushed the door back none too gently with her foot before heading into the kitchen.

"Do you have to do that?" Debbie groused, her hands on her hips.

"She just brings out the sweetness in me, Deb," Brian quipped with a shrug as he flipped a couple of steak burgers over on the grill. "She's such an endearing little tyke." He looked over at the back door as a thought occurred to him. "Maybe you'd better follow her inside to make sure she doesn't try to hide some silverware under her shirt. There're several pawnshops between here and in town; if she comes up with the money to pay me back all of a sudden, let me know."

Debbie sighed wearily as Justin returned with the dessert. "Can't you cut her just a little slack?"

"And I should do that why...?"

"...Maybe because she needs a little understanding and patience."

Brian bestowed a look of barely-concealed incredulity upon her as he replied, "Oh, I understand her, all right. She's a manipulative brat who took advantage of my hospitality...and now apparently has you totally deluded into thinking she's the next best thing to Mother Teresa."

"Hardly," Debbie scoffed.

"Brian..." Justin began.

"Well, what would _you_ call it, Justin? She trashed her hotel room and ripped me off for hundreds of dollars - not to mention all the damage I had to pay back for what she did - and _stole_." He glanced over toward the back of the house. "Maybe you need to add 'thief' to that description, too."

Debbie's eyes flashed in irritation. "You forget how well I know you, Brian. You of all people should know how it feels to be neglected and unloved as a child." Debbie looked over at the door, not wanting Alex to overhear. "I'm telling you that girl is not as tough as she makes herself out to be. She's hiding her emotions because she's afraid of being hurt again. She lashes out as a defense mechanism, plain and simple."

"And your point is, Deb?"

"My point is that she needs support and encouragement. She also needs rules and she needs to know what her limits are. She needs some tough love."

Brian smirked. "That's why I immediately thought of _you_. You're the best drill sergeant I know. And you're married to a cop; what better combination could there be?"

"Brian, that's..." Justin interrupted again in warning, only to stop when Debbie held up her hand, more than capable of fighting her own battles.

She was about to say something about the main reason for her visit when Alex swung the door back open and returned, effectively preventing her from continuing. Before the day was over, however, she would certainly make a point of speaking to them about what was uppermost on her mind.

* * *

Debbie pasted a reassuring smile on her face for Alex's benefit as she reemerged from the house; Justin did the same as he asked her, "How do you like your steakburger cooked, Alex?"

"With a bun and on the beach," the girl joked with a smirk as Brian rolled his eyes in reaction. "But for now I guess I'll just take it medium." Truthfully, she didn't think she had ever HAD a steakburger before. Back when she lived with her parents, she would have been lucky to get even a cold, bologna sandwich on stale bread for lunch, and the dumpsters she frequently visited around Harrisburg lately didn't exactly present her with the highest grade of cuisine to choose from.

Justin nodded as he studied the girl who seemed so tough and abrasive, at least on the outside. After speaking with her at the diner - and considering what Debbie had just said - he suspected she was probably right. He had a strong feeling that the girl's abrasive shell was just that: a front she put up to protect herself from further hurt. He could certainly identify with the need to do that, although his defense mechanisms in his own life had taken on a different tact than hers did. He had found a safe refuge with Brian, as well as with his art, when his life had been turned upside down; this girl hadn't had those advantages.

Choosing to ignore her acerbic attitude, then, he told her, "Well, Brian's an expert when it comes to grilling. What would you like to drink?"

She peered intently over at Brian. "You have something besides alcohol around here?"

Brian huffed in irritation. "We have been known to drink water and soft drinks from time to time, believe it or not. I have a son, you know."

Alex eyed him curiously. "You?" she snorted. "Let's hope you don't treat him the same way you treat me."

"Well, my son has never stolen from me and actually has some manners..."

Justin surreptitiously smacked his husband on the thigh to stop him before suggesting hastily, "Uh, Alex, maybe you would like a tour of the house." He sensed that the conversation between the two was quickly going downhill.

She shrugged after a few moments. "Why not? Sounds a little more interesting than being assigned more KP duty. But I think I'll skip the basement, though."

"KP duty; _that's_ a good one," Brian quipped. "Shame you're not old enough to be conscripted; might do you a world of good, although the idea of you handling an AK47 IS a rather chilling one."

"This way," Justin quickly interjected as he held his hand out toward the back of the house and glared over at Brian in an attempt to prevent any more lively discussion between the two. Alex scrunched up her nose, trying to figure out what 'conscripted' meant, but she knew whatever it was, it wouldn't be a compliment.

"We'll be back in a few minutes," Justin advised his husband. "Deb, would you mind pitching in if Brian needs it?"

Debbie nodded with a pleased smile. "Sure thing, Sunshine! You and Alex go right ahead." She was all in favor of Justin and Alex getting to know each other better. She had suspected that Justin might be more open to accepting Alex than Brian would be. But once Justin was won over, she _also_ knew that Brian would be more prone to listening to what Justin had to say.

* * *

Several minutes later, Justin had led Alex through the entire first floor, showing her the living room, Brian's home office, the billiards room, and finally, the large, open, two-story library with its rows and rows of books stacked from floor to ceiling. He noticed the girl's eyes widening in amazement at the impressive sight as he asked politely, "Do you like to read, Alex?"

"It's okay," she grumbled, averting her eyes self-consciously; unable to admit to him that she could barely read with a modicum of proficiency - and on a much lower grade level than her age would indicate. Moving around constantly with her druggie parents - whatever dump they could find and afford - did not lend itself toward getting a consistent, regular education. While most kids would have probably jumped at the chance to miss school from time to time, her record of nonattendance merited constant notes from whatever school she was attending - and occasional visits from a truant officer, at least when they could figure out where she actually lived. They could never afford a landline phone - and the only mode of communication was the occasional luxury of a pay-as-you-go cellphone, which only lasted as long as her parents weren't shooting up and could afford it. She would have liked nothing better, then, than to have spent her days in school, rather than in some dank, drafty, and stinky place they called 'home.'

Justin studied her carefully. He thought of himself as a fairly good judge of character, and the girl's posture, and the way she turned her head away from him when he spoke, seemed to indicate to him that she was embarrassed about his question for some reason. Why would _that_ be? He wondered. "Are there any types of books or subjects that you like more than others?" he asked her quietly. "Brian likes to keep a large variety of books here, since both Gus and J.R. love to read whenever they come to visit. And they love for us to read to them, too, before they go to bed."

Alex finally turned around to look at him curiously. "Gus and J.R.? Those his kids? I thought he only had one. Is the other one yours?"

Justin swallowed hard, pushing the thought of having a child aside as he explained, "Gus is his son. J.R. is Gus's sister, but she has another dad." He didn't see the need at the moment to try and explain the rather convoluted relationships between all of them; he felt that was best for another time. "They live in Canada with their moms, though, so we don't see them as often as we like," he explained instead. "But they come and visit as much as they can, so we try to keep them busy while they're here. And they both enjoy reading." He watched her stealing peeks at all the books as he told her, "You're welcome to take one with you if you like. Just pick one out."

"I don't need your pity OR your books," Alex retorted. "No, thanks."

Justin sighed wearily before taking a deep breath. "Suit yourself," he told her a little curtly, somewhat aggravated by her irascible nature. He was trying to give her the benefit of the doubt - especially in light of what she had been through - but he was finding it increasingly difficult. "Let's go up to the second floor, then."

He turned and headed out of the library, pausing to notice Alex eyeing all the books almost hungrily and wondering why she hadn't taken him up on his offer, before she noticed him staring over at her curiously. Pasting a veil of indifference back on her face, the girl turned and shuffled over to him, eyeing him expectantly. Letting out another, slow breath to compose himself, Justin told her, "This way," as he led her toward the wide, hardwood staircase leading up to the second floor.

As they ascended to the next level, he watched as she seemed to carefully study each painting located on the wall next to the stairs, seeming to hesitate slightly as she looked them over. He paused as he observed her running the pads of her fingers lightly over one of the paintings, feeling the ridges of oil-based paint.

He was somewhat surprised when she turned around to state firmly, "This is an original painting, not a reproduction."

He smiled with a nod, pleased to discuss art with her, and impressed that she had noticed the difference. "Yes, it is," he told her. "It's an oil-based work."

She nodded. "I thought so. I...I could feel the brushstrokes," she explained. She turned to look back at the portrait in fascination.

It was a painting that had stayed with the house when Brian had bought the property as a surprise for Justin. Neither he nor Justin knew who was portrayed in the candid painting of a Victorian-era mother and her newborn posed in a lacey, antique, christening gown and perched on his mother's knee, but Justin had fallen in love with the tender portrait when they had moved in, and he had persuaded his husband not to take it down; a fate that had awaited several of the sterner-looking paintings that had remained with the house. At the time, Brian had told him they reminded him too much of a mausoleum, rather than their future home, and all but this one had been relegated to a storage closet in the basement. Of course, Justin had been happy that Brian _had_ chosen, instead, to hang many of his own works of art throughout the house. But this particular piece had already intrigued him for some reason and had resonated with him, so he had been delighted that it still hung in a prominent spot where he could admire it daily. Perhaps Alex felt the same way?

"Do you like that painting?" he asked her softly as he watched her continue to stare at it.

She kept her fingers pressed gently against the canvas for a few more seconds before she nodded. "Yeah," was the simple reply.

Justin nodded with a smile. "I do, too," he told her. "It's one of my favorites. I like paintings that tell a story and evoke emotion."

She nodded back at him as if she understood before she turned around, and Justin could almost see the mask slip back into place again as she told him, "Let's go."

A little disappointed, he turned with a nod and headed up the rest of the steps, Alex following quietly behind him. A sudden inspiration hit him then as, instead of taking her down the hall toward some of the second-floor bedrooms and the sunroom, he turned to the right and headed toward a narrow, wooden door near the end, heading up to the bonus room on the top floor. A slight coolness flowed out of the space as Justin opened up the door, making Alex shiver in response.

"What's up _there_?" she asked a little apprehensively.

"A very special room," Justin told her mysteriously with a smile. "A room I spend a lot of time in. Come on; I'll show you."

Alex couldn't help wondering exactly what sort of 'room' it was after Brian's statement about the basement being a former torture chamber; she knew he was just being an asshole and trying to scare her, but still...The slight chilliness that had escaped out as the door had been opened made her a little anxious. Yet, Justin didn't seem to have any problems taking the lead, so she figured it couldn't be anything _too_ scary, so her curiosity won out over her fears as she trudged up the wooden, slightly creaky steps, surprised by how much light was coming from above.

Standing at the top of the steps a few seconds later, Justin waited for Alex to join him; he watched in understanding as he recognized a flicker of emotions cross her face when she stood to join him and got a better glimpse of what type of room it was. It was the first time he had seen her eyes lit up with such blatant interest, and it made her entire face look completely different - almost childlike with fascination instead of lackluster and wary. It was the same type of look HE had had when Brian had first shown him this space and he imagined the possibliities.

"This is your studio?" she asked as she looked around in awe at the space. Two skylights above - along with a row of windows on both ends that had been installed after the house had been purchased - bathed the room in a warm, bright light, just perfect for an artist. Two professional easels were set up at one end where Justin preferred to work, and several completed canvases were stacked against one side wall, waiting to either be shipped to commissioned buyers or to be hung in one of two galleries where Justin's works were normally displayed. A sink, a microwave, and a built-in, double burner situated on top of a long, laminate counter was nestled alongside the other, angular, side wall, the cabinets underneath filled to the brim with various supplies he might need. A couch and two stuffed chairs at the other end were the perfect complement to the space; Justin loved to sit there with his sketch pad and a cup of coffee in the morning as his next idea for a painting began to take flight. It was an artist's dream space, and Justin looked forward to using it every day - and never forgot his husband's thoughtfulness whenever he used it. It spoke of the love Brian had for him, and that meant the most of all.

He nodded. "Yes, this is where I work on my projects," he confirmed with a smile. "It's great, isn't it?"

Alex's mouth hung open in amazement as she slowly nodded.

"Take a closer look around," he urged her softly as she slowly began to circle the room, pausing at the end of the space to look out through the wall of windows at the expanse of fields, trees, and stables below.

"I come up here pretty much every day to work," Justin explained as he walked over to where she stood, gazing out onto the scenery; at this time of year, the grass was a dull green, and the trees were barren of leaves, except for the multitude of pines - but the stark reminder of impending winter was still beautiful somehow. "There's something about this place that inspires me as an artist, and makes me feel at peace with myself." Of course, being with Brian had that effect on him as well. But knowing he lived with his husband in a place of their own - one that had been new to both of them at the time - signified their new life together, and meant the world to him. It had also been the site of their wedding, which had been one of the happiest days of his life so far. He peered over at Alex curiously, watching a myriad of expressions flicker across her face and wondering what she must be thinking. He knew this had to be so much removed from what she had to have experienced thus far in her relatively short life.

"Everything here is so..." the young girl struggled to come up with the words before she finally settled on the right one. "Open," she finally answered. "And large."

Justin smiled. "Those are good words for it," he decided as he looked around his comfortable, but obscenely spacious artist's loft. It was almost as big as the entire apartment he had rented briefly on his own several years ago; the one in a neighborhood that his mother constantly worried would result in him being mugged - or worse - on the nearby streets. The one where he had retreated to briefly after the bombing, before he and Brian had reconciled.

"Why do you have a house that's so big?" she asked him as she turned to look intently at him. "This place is big enough to be a hotel. Why would you want something this large?" _Maybe it had been an orphanage at one time_, she couldn't help wondering. _It was certainly large enough for it._

"It's a long story," he told her a little enigmatically, recalling his impromptu speech to Brian at the aforementioned, shit-hole-of-an-apartment when he had thrown out something about 'stables and a pool,' not realizing Brian would take it quite so literally. "It wasn't exactly what we were looking for, and we really don't use all of the space," he told her. "Except for when family or friends come to visit. But it's our home - and our escape when we need to relax and unwind. Brian, especially, has a very stressful job at times, so this is his outlet to release some of that stress." He turned to gaze out at the stables. "He's become quite a horseman," he told her with a grin. "I never thought I would see the day...but he loves to go riding - and he's very good at it. And the pool and the tennis courts get a real workout in the summer." He stopped then, thinking how selfish that might sound to someone who had been looking -literally - for where her next meal might be coming from and where she would be resting her head at night.

Alex sighed softly, wondering how it might feel to be living in such splendor. She would never know, however; and her future was decidedly in a jumble. She didn't know _what_ was going to happen to her, and it filled her with a great sense of trepidation and anxiety. She wasn't about to let _this_ man know it, though; she had learned long ago that she had to take care of herself and not reveal any vulnerabilities to anyone. She pursed her lips together as she asked him brusquely, "Are we done with the grand tour now?"

Justin gazed into her face, now devoid of emotion again, as he sadly nodded. "I guess so. I can show you the outside grounds later, though, if you want. Have you ever ridden a horse before?"

She snorted. "All the time! It's how I get from dumpster to dumpster in town. You just can't rely on the buses or the subway anymore."

Justin sighed heavily. "Alex, why don't you just cut the crap?" he growled in irritation. "Everyone isn't your enemy, you know," he added a little more gently.

"Then don't ask me stupid questions," she snapped, her face drawn tight and her eyes prickling with tears to her dismay. She was NOT going to cry in front of this man.

Justin closed his eyes briefly to compose himself before shaking his head in temporary defeat. "Fine. Let's go see if lunch is ready," he told her as he looked over at the child whose back was now turned to him again. He watched her silently head back down the steps ahead of him in reaction, not wanting to risk letting him see how she really felt.

* * *

_Thirty minutes later..._

"More dessert, Sunshine?"

Justin groaned from his place at the patio table. "No, thanks, Deb; two pieces was more than enough. You could leave what's left here for later, though..." he added hopefully as Brian laughed, fully expecting that response.

"Of course, Honey," she told him with a smile as she glanced over at the sullen-looking child sitting across from her. Alex had eaten rather well - consuming her entire steakburger, some pasta salad, macaroni and cheese, and one piece of the cheesecake - but she had been noticeably quiet after returning with Justin from their tour of the house. She watched her absentmindedly doodling on one of the leftover, white, paper napkins with one of Justin's pencils he had left lying on the table, seemingly lost in her own world.

"Uh, Alex?" she called out as the girl finally lifted her gaze to peer over at her. "I think the least we can do to repay our guests for their hospitality is to help clean up," she told her as she stood up and began to gather up the leftovers. "Grab the cheesecake and pasta salad for me, and we'll put what's left in the refrigerator so Sunshine here will have something for his midnight snack later."

Brian grinned, knowing how close Debbie was to hitting the mark; he had lost track of how many times he had rolled over in bed and flung his hand out to locate his husband to spoon up against his familiar warmth, only to discover Justin's side of the bed empty while he embarked on yet another midnight raid on the fridge. Invariably a few minutes later, he would hear soft footfalls on the hardwood floor before the mattress dipped in the darkness and Justin returned. It had become so routine that Brian didn't even bother to tease him about it anymore; he merely scooted over and pulled him closer against his body when he returned, kissing his shoulder and sliding his arm around Justin's waist as the two of them drifted back off to sleep.

Justin cast a challenging look at him and stuck his tongue out briefly as Alex huffed in protest; one arched eyebrow from Debbie, however, and she silently pushed back from the table and grudgingly did as she was told, cradling the two items, one in each hand, as she followed Debbie toward the back door leading into the kitchen.

"Well, isn't she Miss Congeniality?" Brian remarked wryly as he watched Alex disappear inside. "If she radiates any _more _happiness, you might have competition for the _Sunshine_ nickname." Justin rolled his eyes as Brian asked, "What'd you do to her in there? We really _don't_ have torture devices downstairs, do we?" he asked with his lips rolled under.

"Only the ones you like to use on me," Justin told him with a grin as Brian smirked. Brian had been known from time to time to indulge in some sexual roleplaying with his husband downstairs in their well-appointed recreation room. They didn't use it only to watch sporting events or movies; the recliners came in handy for _other_ interesting activities as well that involved items such as handcuffs, vibrators, and dildos, among other things. "Besides, I didn't take her downstairs at all, just to the other floors."

"Well, you must have done _something _to lighten her mood," he teased. "She's even more enchanting then when she first got here. I thought you were normally the more likable one in our relationship," he told him with a smile.

Justin shook his head. "I just can't figure her out; it's almost as if she doesn't _want_ anything to go right for her, like she doesn't think she deserves it, I guess." He sighed as he checked to make sure she wasn't returning and would overhear. "I think Debbie's right, Brian. She's scared and worried about what's going to happen to her, and she's afraid to let anyone know that. She may appear all tough and independent on the outside, but shit, she's only eleven! She's still just a kid. A kid that has seen way too much in her life, no doubt; but still just a little girl inside."

His eyes fell then upon the napkin Alex had been doodling on, and he picked it up to study it, his eyes widening in amazement at what he saw. "Did you see this?" he asked his husband as he handed it over to him.

Brian opened up his mouth to reply with an appropriate retort; that is, until he glanced down and got a good look at what Justin was holding. He gazed in shock at an amazing portrait of an older version of the girl, surmising this might be her deceased mother. The woman in the pencil sketch had the same pert nose, the same lips, the same eyebrows and identical, expressive eyes. Her softly curled hair framed a heart-shaped face, much like Alex's, and she was smiling wistfully. It wouldn't have rivaled one of Justin's earlier works when HE was younger, but there was definitely some skill and talent evident there. His mouth hung open in astonishment. "She drew this?" he murmured.

"You didn't see ME draw it, did you?"

Brian stared at the drawing before shaking his head in disbelief. "Fuck," he exclaimed as his eyes met Justin's. "I would have never thought she would be capable of something like _that_."

"Me, neither," Justin admitted. "But she _did_ seem quite fascinated earlier when she saw that portrait of the mother and child hanging up by the steps; you know, the one with the old-fashioned christening gown?" Brian nodded. "And when I took her upstairs to my studio, she seemed very interested in it." He peered down once more at the impressive portrait Alex had managed to compose in a relatively short period of time. Most artists would have taken much longer to construct what she had managed to draw in the blink of an eye. "I think we may have just stumbled upon something that our little, lost soul is actually interested in. I can't imagine she was ever taught this skill, though; she must have a natural ability for it." He had been the same way; from practically the first day he could hold one in his chubby, little hands as a young toddler, he had grasped either a crayon or a fat pencil in his grip and had used it to draw something, _anything_, whenever and wherever he could, and he had refused to let it go ever since, despite his father constantly trying to get him involved in more 'masculine' activities like sports or the outdoors. "This is pretty damn good for an 11-year-old," he murmured. "She shows some real talent that I think should be encouraged."

"Good. Maybe she can start pedaling her 'starving artists' works on the streets of the Pitts to help pay me back for all the money she owes me, then."

Justin sighed heavily. "Brian, can you please just let that drop? It's not like we're hurting for the money, and she IS working to pay it back."

"That's not the point, Justin, and you know it," was the terse reply. "She needs to know there are consequences to everything she does; that there are boundaries and limits..."

Justin smiled. "NOW who's spouting some 'tough love?' He couldn't help pointing out as he reached over to squeeze Brian's hand. Brian was about to issue a snappy comeback when the sound of the glass sliding door opening made them both look over at the back of the house as Debbie emerged alone.

"Where's the juvenile delinquent?" Brian asked as she walked up and joined them. "Looking for a pillowcase to put her valuables in?"

Debbie shook her head in exasperation as Brian grinned back at her. "She's trying out Gus's new video game system down in the rec room," she told them. "Her curiosity got the better of her, so I had to show her your 'dungeon' downstairs - after I made sure you had put away all your play toys and reassured her that it was safe to venture down there."

Brian sighed. "I give up," he decided as he peered over at her and then Justin. "One of you is bad enough; two of you are impossible. No fair ganging up on me."

Debbie chuckled softly. "You forget how well I know you, and I say you doth protest way too much, Kinney." She told them, "I'm glad I got the two of you alone, though. I need to talk to you about her."

"Here it comes," Brian deadpanned. "What has the little shit done _now_? Don't tell me; she's been hoarding lemon bars under her hoodie at the diner, and stashing them in her room at night."

"Not quite," Debbie told him dryly. Her face turned somber as she told them, "Carl and I had a long talk yesterday about Alex; about her future." For once both men remained mute as she continued with a sigh, "And as much as I wouldn't mind having her under my roof - and helping that wounded, little bird learn how to fly - Carl's right. Neither one of us have the stamina anymore to keep up with someone her age. And...It's not fair to him to expect to raise another child all over again after he's already done that. So...A decision is going to have to be made where she goes from here. We can't just dump her back out on the street - as much as you seem to be willing to do that," she declared as she stared directly over at Brian. She smiled knowingly. "I know that's all a front, though, or you would have never offered to put her up in that hotel room. So how about extending your generosity further?"

Brian's eyes widened and his mouth hung open in disbelief. He guffawed as his voice rose in volume. "Tell me you are NOT saying what I think you're saying, Debbie. Because there is NO way in hell I am going to let that, that..._holy terror_ live here with Justin and me! That's what the juvenile system is for! I never expected you and Carl to take her on a permanent basis. Once she's paid as much as she's able to pay me back - and you can't deal with her anymore - just ship her out to Child Protective Services and let THEM deal with her. That's their job. End of problem." He scooted back from the chair in aggravation as he turned and walked over to stand at the edge of the covered, in-ground pool, scuffing his shoe in agitation against the rough concrete, his thoughts a swirl of emotions.

* * *

_Same Time..._

Alex quickly grew tired of the video game downstairs and decided to return to the back patio. Debbie, not having shut the sliding glass door all the way when she ventured back outside a few minutes ago, was unaware when the girl slid the door back silently heading out from the kitchen, hearing voices coming from the nearby table and her name being mentioned. Stopping in her tracks, her heart sank and her eyes quickly filled with tears as she overheard the adults' conversation. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she turned around and rushed blindly back inside, her face contorted with pain and heartbreak. Not knowing where she should go, she hurried up the steps, racing down the hallway until she found the first open door heading into one of the guest bedrooms. It was a child's room from the looks of it - the white furniture was smaller in design, and the bed was a white, four-poster canopy bed with a soft, gauzy, pink-colored, ruffled top. Various stuffed animals were propped up against the two pillows on the bed, and multi-colored butterflies and purple- and pink-gowned princesses were painted on the walls. Her eyesight partially obscured by the tears running down her face, she rushed over and flung herself unceremoniously down onto the bed and curled herself up into a tight ball.

* * *

Debbie shook her head sadly over Brian's stubbornness. "Fuck that," she growled. "That's the _last_ thing that little girl needs right now; yet another upheaval in her life. At least she is familiar with you and Justin, and you have more than enough room here... It's like a fucking bed and breakfast with all the space you have! She could go to school in town; she'll need some extra tutoring, I imagine, but it's not like you can't afford that, and she is far from dumb. She just needs a chance to catch up, that's all..."

Brian held up his hands to get her to stop as he walked back over to sit down next to Justin. "Debbie, I've spent more than enough on her already if you include what she stole from me and what she charged on my credit card. Why should I do anything else for her?"

"Maybe because you know what it's like to grow up without any direction - and also what it's like for someone to take you in and provide a safe haven for you when you feel like your world is coming to an end, and you can't take it anymore or know where to go. Or have you forgotten about that?"

Justin mutely observed their conversation, raptly listening to what his husband and Debbie were saying. Brian's childhood was the one, last frontier that he really didn't feel all that familiar with. In a way it bothered him - to not know everything about the man he loved so deeply - but on the other hand, he knew from what others had said and inferred that it was a painful period for him. He watched as Brian's face clouded over before he murmured, "No, of course I haven't forgotten, Deb. If it hadn't been for you...and Mikey...Well, you know..."

"Yes, I DO know," she told him, her lips pressed firmly together. "I know you trust my judgment, Brian; no matter _how_ you might act to the contrary. And I know you appreciate what was done for you. And I'm not saying take her in permanently. But if you - and Sunshine here - could find it in your hearts and within your means to watch over her and give her a good start, at least, I think it might make all the difference in the world to her."

Brian sighed. "Debbie, we're not exactly members of each other's mutual admiration society."

"Maybe not," she admitted. "But she only answers you the way she does because that's how YOU treat her. And she's afraid; afraid - just like YOU used to be - to let anyone else's heart touch hers, because she's no doubt been hurt way too much in the past. Remember when we had that talk a long time ago? The one where I told you that you were afraid to admit to Justin that you loved him, when I knew you obviously did?"

Justin's eyes widened in interest; _when had THAT happened_?

Brian glanced a little uneasily over at his husband; no doubt THAT particular statement would be the subject of a later conversation between them. "Yeah, I remember," he told her softly as he gazed over at Justin's beautiful face, a face full of curiosity and open love for him. He couldn't help smiling wistfully as Justin smiled back at him in return.

"Well, it took you a long time to come to terms with that, but you did. And once you learned to open up your heart, and admit how you really felt, your life was enriched greatly as a result - wasn't it? I mean, can you imagine Justin not being in your life now? Or your own father? Or Gus? This would be your way to give back a little."

Brian appeared a little uncomfortable by her probing, even though he had gotten better about admitting his feelings out loud now. "No, of course I can't," he told her softly as he glanced over at Justin and reached to take his hand in his and give it a squeeze. He noticed his sentimental husband's eyes tearing up a little as he said, "Justin? This isn't just about me. It would involve _both_ of us. I...I'm still not convinced this is a good idea. It would completely uproot both of our lives. And...There's that other matter, too," he reminded him quietly.

"_What _other matter?" Debbie immediately picked up on.

Now it was Justin's turn to look uncomfortable. "Nothing, Deb. It's...something private between Brian and me."

She eyed the two of them with extreme curiosity, but she knew where Brian was concerned, Justin would keep his confidence above all else. "Well, whatever it is, it can't have a direct bearing on what's best for this kid..."

"You might be surprised," Brian told her softly as he continued to stare over at his husband, needing to know what was going through his mind. "Justin?"

His husband shook his head. "I don't know, Brian. If we do this, we would have to put 'other dreams' on hold, then. And she's been through so much; are we even qualified to take care of someone like that, even temporarily? I mean, I want to help her, but...Are we up for it?"

Brian brushed his other hand through his hair restlessly. "Honestly? I'm not sure. Fuck, how do _I _know?"

"Well, how does ANYONE know how to really raise a child?" Debbie pointed out, unwilling to just give up on the idea. She knew this was a little scary for both men, but she also knew deep down that they could provide the time of home this child needed. Brian had turned out to be a phenomenal father to Gus, despite his initial apprehension about the idea. Some people seemed to be born to know how to parent, and Brian was one of them. Yes, he made mistakes just like all parents did, but the older Gus became, the more comfortable Brian seemed to fall into his role as father. Gus simply adored him. And Justin? Justin had ideal qualities to be a father; he was a consummate nurturer, and to Gus he was his second father. "You need to give yourself more credit, Kiddo. I happen to think you of all people know what to do or NOT to do above everyone else. Look what you've done with Gus," she pointed out. "It doesn't have to be a long-term arrangement. But to this girl, it might mean some permanence in her life - and it might mean the world to her, and make the difference between total failure in her life or success. Can there be any greater personal reward than that?"

Brian sighed. "Debbie, do you realize what you're asking of us? Of me?" He focused on the familiar warmth of Justin's hand in his as he gazed over into his face. "Justin? What do you think?" he asked him quietly.

Justin let out a deep breath. It wasn't what he had been thinking of - or the scenario he would have envisioned. But somehow, giving this girl a home, at least temporarily, felt right, especially in light of Brian's relationship with Fin. He was so glad that the two of them had become closer, and he could see the benefits Brian was deriving from knowing he had a father who actually cared about him and was able to have a meaningful relationship with him. Did this girl not deserve the same type of chance? All he knew was, they had to try, even if they wound up falling flat on their asses.

He licked his lips to wet them before telling his husband, "I think we need to give it a try, Brian. At least for a little while. We can always do what I asked you about later...if you agree with me, that is. I work from home most of the time, anyway, and she'll be in school most of the day while I'm painting. And I imagine when we _aren't _around, we might be able to convince a certain person to watch her for us," he pointed out as Debbie agreed with a warm smile. God knows what grade she would actually wind up in, though; something told him that a proper education was the last thing on Alex's parents' minds while they were shooting up. He shuddered at the thought, only imagining what that girl must have gone through. "If we can make a difference in her life," he added quietly, "then I think we owe it to her to give her a chance. If it doesn't work out, well, then at least we'll know we tried."

"I can't believe I'm agreeing to this," Brian grumbled, slowing caving in. He lifted his gaze to peer over at Justin, knowing that despite his reservations it was the right thing to do. Would they survive it, though? "I think this would have been a lot easier if Alex had wound up being an _Alexander_, rather than an _Alexandria_," he told Justin wryly. He looked over at Debbie. "What will we need to do? To be foster parents, I mean? Fuck, I can't believe I'm even saying this," he repeated, dumbfounded.

Debbie beamed. "I'll haveCarl contact Child Protective Services. There'll be some paperwork to fill out, and they'll need to do an extensive background check on both of you. And they'll probably have to interview Mel and Lindsay - and maybe even Gus, too. Carl and I will keep her until you get approved as foster parents," Debbie promised him.

"Shit...Gus!" Brian exclaimed. "He hasn't even met her yet. What if he thinks I'm trying to replace him or something?"

"He won't think that," Justin assured him as he slowly caressed Brian's fingers. "He knows how much you love him. We'll just explain who she is and that she needed a home for a while, that's all. He's a smart kid; he'll understand."

"He'd better," Brian vowed. "Because he's what's most important to me; along with you," he added quickly. He let out a long breath as he released Justin's hand and scooted back from his seat. "Okay, then; maybe I'd better go see what the little waif has gotten herself into; she's been gone for a long time."

* * *

As she watched Brian disappear a minute later inside the house, Debbie turned to look at her young friend. "I wasn't sure he would agree to do it," she admitted as she peered into Justin's face. She paused before asking softly, "Why do I feel like I just interfered with some plans of yours?"

Justin averted his gaze. His desire to have a child with Brian, an infant to raise, was still there. But they were both relatively young, and he was beginning to realize that Alex needed a home just as badly, if not more so, than a baby would. There would be time to pursue that dream as long as Brian was in agreement. But for now, he felt this was the right course of action to take. He had had numerous supporters along the way throughout all of his own troubles and strife; perhaps it was time to give back a little in recognition of that. "You didn't," he reassured her softly with a smile as he turned to look at her, not quite willing to reveal his innermost thoughts at the moment. "And I wasn't sure Brian would agree, either. But I'm glad he did. I think it's the right thing to do, and I think she needs the stability." He laughed softly at the irony. "Who would have ever thought I would use THAT word to describe mine and Brian's relationship?" He grinned. "Let's just hope the two of them don't kill each other first; maybe I'd better go play referee just in case." He pushed back from the chair. "I'll be right back. I'll call if I need reinforcements; you just sit there and relax." She nodded with a smile as Justin turned and headed back inside.

* * *

Brian scratched his head, perplexed. "Little shit," he muttered as he walked over and turned off the big-screen T.V. that was still on, along with the video game console. "You could have at least turned it off." _Where could she be_? he wondered as he turned and headed back upstairs to the main floor. Had she run off somehow, like she had been constantly threatening to do? If so, he hoped she didn't take anything valuable with her. He still didn't quite trust her; no, scratch that. He didn't trust her at _all_ yet. But he HAD promised Debbie he would take on the responsibility of taking care of her, at least temporarily, and once he made a promise he always kept it. He stood at the bottom of the steps, lost in a quandary, until he thought he could hear soft, muffled sobs coming from upstairs. Frowning, he quickly took the steps upstairs, pausing at the 2nd-floor landing to listen. They were definitely sobs, he decided, as he turned and headed down the hallway, the sounds growing louder and more distinct.

Finally, he stopped at J.R.'s guest room on the right and looked inside. His heart clenched as he observed Alex lying on her side in the bed, tightly clutching one of J.R.'s teddy bears in her arms as she rocked back and forth. Her face scrunched up and red from crying, she was oblivious to his presence as he softly trod into the room to approach the bed.

He had no fucking idea what to do here, or even why she was so obviously upset. But he knew instinctively that he had to do something. "Uh...Alex?" he called out softly. As soon as he spoke, the girl immediately dropped the stuffed bear and scooted further up into the bed into a sitting position, her back to the headboard as she hurriedly wiped her eyes with the back of her shirt sleeve.

"What do YOU want?" she stuttered in between sniffles, her nose running.

Brian sat down on the edge of the bed and reached for a tissue from the nearby box. He silently handed it to her before asking, "What's going on? What's wrong?"

"Nothing," she told him stiffly as she blew into the tissue. "I'm fine. It's none of your damn business."

Brian snorted. "Yeah, you look just peachy. Now how about cutting the bullshit and telling me what's REALLY wrong?"

"Why? YOU don't care."

Brian sighed as Alex turned her head away from him and crossed her arms over her chest defiantly.

"Maybe I shouldn't," he admitted after a moment. "And you can believe this or not, but I DO care. But I also can't do anything about it if you're not honest with me."

Alex harrumphed. "That's rich; you telling ME to be honest. Why don't YOU try it sometime? I heard you earlier."

Brian frowned as Alex glared over at him. "What are you talking about?"

"I came out to the back door before and heard the three of you talking," she explained. "You...You told Debbie there was no way you would want me living here. And now SHE'S trying to get rid of me, too!" she cried out in dismay, her eyes tearing over again. "Well, you know what? That's just fine with me! I've lived on my own before, and I can do it again!" she vowed, her words belying the way she really felt.

Brian's heart dropped at the thought she had overheard their initial conversation; he had never intended to hurt her. God knows HE had been the subject of verbal abuse while growing up, and he knew how much that could wound someone. "That's not true, Alex," he told her gently. "You just heard part of what we said, not all of it."

"I heard _enough_!" she maintained. "You don't want me here, and soon Debbie and Carl won't, either. Well, don't worry; I'll be going."

"And just where will you _go_?" Brian urged her. "Back onto the street?"

"Why? Afraid you won't get paid back for what I owe you? I'll find a way if it's the last thing I do!"

"Alex," Brian replied with surprising tenderness. "I'm not worried about the money. Justin and I can more than afford it." He sighed; he had very little experience with this sort of thing. "Okay, you want honesty? I'll give you _complete_ honesty. Yeah, I'm not a hundred-percent sure I'm doing the right thing by agreeing to be a foster parent to you. You're a big-mouthed, impertinent shit to be such a young girl," he told her as she glared over at him as if he had insulted her. His voice softened, however, as he told her, "But I also think you've gotten a lot of bad breaks in your life, and things have happened to you that have not been your fault. I...I grew up in a shitty home, too. My father used to use me as a punching bag, and my mother was normally too wasted to notice or even care. So I know what it's like to grow up without having love or having the things that you need. But I was lucky; I had some people who truly _did _care for me and wanted me to succeed, and at least I knew where my next meal was coming from and where I was sleeping at night. No matter WHAT happened, though, I knew I could overcome what was happening to me if I just opened up the door a crack and let those who wanted to help me in. And I _did_. With their help, and with the love of my husband, my son...and my father - my REAL father - I've been able to put that all behind me and persevere. And you can, too; if you'll only let someone try to help you and be upfront with them."

"But you said..."

"I know what I said," Brian admitted apologetically. "But after talking to Debbie some more - and to Justin - they convinced me that you deserve a chance to succeed just like I did. Not everyone is out to get you, Alex. There are _good_ people in this world. But you have to reach out to them, to trust them, and to be willing to be open to them - and to be truthful with them."

"But you don't like me," she persisted, sniffling in between hiccups. "You just said so."

"No, I didn't say that," he pointed out. "You CAN be a stubborn brat," he told her with a half-smile. "But you also have potential. I happen to think a lot of what you do and say is to protect yourself from hurt; I did that, too, when I was a kid. But if you never learn to reach out to others - if you never learn to ask for help and accept it - you will always be right where you are - alone, frightened, and looking behind your back wherever you go. Is that what you want, Alex? Is it?"

She stared over at this complex man; not sure quite WHAT to make of him. He could be crude, overbearing, and arrogant at times. But now, right now, he almost felt like a kindred spirit to her and a lifeline to a better life. Finally, she shook her head as she whispered simply in a hoarse tone of voice, "No."

Brian nodded back at her. "Good. You're a fighter, then. I like that, even in a girl," he teased her as he was finally rewarded with a slight smile in return. "Let's shake on it, then." He held out his hand toward the girl tentatively, waiting...

Finally, she held her hand out and ever so slightly grasped his. As he felt the smallness and fragility of her hand in his, Brian recalled what Debbie had told him. Alex might be street smart in some ways and old beyond her years, but when it was all said and done, she was still just a child. A vulnerable, insecure child. An overwhelming feeling of protectiveness swept through him as he tentatively pulled her closer and gently swept her up into a light embrace, patting her lightly on the back as he held her. He felt her stiffen at first for a moment, before, with one, last sniffle, she melted against him as her arms came to slide around his back and she laid her head on his chest and took a deep breath.

"Everything will be okay; it's all right now," he murmured as he continued to hold her. "No one's going to hurt you anymore." A slight sound near the doorway made him look up to observe Justin silently standing there, tears in his own eyes. Offering a small, sheepish, half-smile to his husband, Brian nodded slightly back at him as he continued to hold her, not quite feeling totally comfortable in his role, but feeling somehow that it was right.


	39. Dash of Vinegar, Pinch of Understanding

_Brian and Justin take on the responsibility of being Alex's foster parents with mixed results; Tony discovers it's not easy being the partner of Pittsburgh's first gay governor-elect. _

* * *

_No, you're not imagining it. It IS a new update at last. Sigh...I won't bore all of you with the myriad of reasons why, but I WILL apologize for how long this has taken. It is always uppermost in my mind, but often my good intentions - and my heart - are vastly in battle with my reality. Rest assured, however, that this story WILL get done, as will my other WIP. Hopefully I am on a better updating track now, and will do my best to update faster. I do hope some of you are still following this one. For those of who you are and who have offered your support, I give you my sincerest thanks._

_Three Weeks Later...Master Bedroom_

"You have GOT to be kidding me," Brian remarked as he studied the pamphlet that Justin had handed to him.

Justin grinned from beside him on the edge of the bed. "No, that's the name of the 30-hour training course: _Parent Resource Information Development and Education_. Until we complete it, we can't be approved as foster parents."

Brian rolled his eyes in disbelief. "PRIDE?"

His husband nodded with a short laugh. "Yep. Must be a sign."

Brian snorted. "Yeah, a sign of insanity. Tell me again why I decided to do this..."

Justin smiled fondly over at him, seeing right through his mask of disdain. He recalled all too well the scene he had encountered a few weeks ago up in JR's bedroom between his husband and their possible, soon-to-be foster child. That was certainly NOT the look of someone who didn't care.

"You're doing it because you're a compassionate man who recognized someone needed our help and decided to act upon it," he told him as Brian huffed in protest. "And don't try to deny it, either; you know I can see right through you."

"I didn't say I would do it for certain," Brian maintained, grasping at straws. He knew, however, that unless they wound up flunking out of foster parent training, it was a done deal. He never thought in his wildest dreams that he would agree to it, but after seeing Alex up in Jr's bedroom that day, he had somehow changed his mind. After all, he reasoned, this arrangement would just be temporary...right? Why did he think in the deep recesses of his mind that it might turn out to be anything BUT that, however? At least he would be at work most of the time. And there would be Debbie to help keep her in line. In fact, Alex was still staying with her and Carl. But as soon as he and Justin were officially approved as foster parents and their training was finished, she would be coming to stay with them. Was he ready for that eventuality? He wasn't really sure. Could he EVER be with this girl?

"Uh, huh," Justin was responding dryly as Brian turned his attention back to him; he was clearly not convinced. "Well, _Dad_, good or bad, our first class is tomorrow night."

Brian sighed. "Class? And don't call me _Dad._ With our age difference, that almost sounds incestuous."

His husband smacked him on the arm. "I'm not THAT young. Can you meet me downtown tomorrow night around 7?" Justin waited a few moments without getting any response. "Brian, you promised her," he reminded him quietly. "You're not backing out now?"

"You know I never break a promise," he told Justin. "That doesn't mean I can't have some second thoughts, though."

"Brian..."

"Okay, Okay," he grumbled. "I'll meet you downtown tomorrow at 7:00. Where?"

"At the Children's Services Building."

Brian nodded. "I'll meet you in the lobby. Sure you don't want to just meet me at Kinnetik and we can drive over together?"

"Thanks. But I'd like to meet my mom for a late lunch first."

Brian snickered. "Yeah, better prepare her for what's to come." He laid the pamphlet down onto the bed and flopped down onto his back to lie flat on the mattress, still clad in his suit and tie. It was nearly 8:00 p.m., and he hadn't even eaten yet.

He turned his head to the side as Justin crawled over on his knees to lie on his side next to him, bracing himself by his elbow. "Long day?" he asked softly as he reached over with his other hand to begin tugging on Brian's tie to loosen it.

Brian nodded, letting out a deep breath as Justin began to work his magic. Just having his husband there beside him was always the best tonic for any stress he experienced, and it always did wonders to wash away any worries in his mind. He felt the light touch of Justin's hands against his chest as he tugged on the tie and slid it out from around his neck; he then got to work on unbuttoning his shirt as he turned to drape himself half-on, half off him.

"Well, you just lie back then and let me take care of you," Justin murmured; he grinned as Brian bestowed a lecherous smirk on him. "Dirty old man," he declared as Brian waggled his eyebrows at him and curled his lips under mischievously.

"_Very_ dirty," Brian replied dutifully as Justin laughed, continuing to undress him. "Sit up for a minute," he instructed as he rose up on his knees to kneel beside him and pushed Brian's expensive jacket off his shoulders to carefully drape it over a nearby chair. The shirt now completely unbuttoned, he finished unfastening the cuffs before it joined the suit jacket.

Tugging now at Brian's waistband, Justin could feel his handsome husband's eyes fixed on him as he undid the fly, unable to resist sliding one hand inside the silk briefs to grasp the hard-on he knew he would find there. He had long since passed the point where he wondered how he had ever obtained so much power over this magnificent man, but it still secretly thrilled him anyway. He heard Brian let out a soft grunt of appreciation as he gave the cock a firm squeeze before nudging Brian with his leg in a silent invitation for him to lift his hips up, allowing the pants and briefs to be slid down his long legs.

Justin took a moment to admire the toned, bronzed, lightly muscled body as he pulled at Brian's socks and shoes to remove them. He dispensed with the rest of the brunet's clothing then, the shoes making a clunking noise on the hardwood floor as he took time to fold the pants meticulously before placing them over the chair.

Now openly admiring Brian in all his naked glory, Justin gave the brunet a playful push backward onto the mattress before he told him, "Turn over. I'm going to take all that stress away, and make you feel soooo good."

Brian arched one eyebrow warily in reaction, causing Justin to roll his eyes. "Just do it, okay? I promise I won't do anything you don't want me to do, big guy."

Brian eyed him suspiciously, but did as Justin asked, the coolness of the room whispering over his bare skin as he lay there on his stomach. Pillowing his head on his folded hands, he felt the mattress shift as Justin rose to stand by the bed, and heard the rustling of what sounded like clothes being discarded. A few moments later, he felt the mattress dip, and then the warm, familiar body of his husband straddling his thighs. He could feel the heat of Justin's cock brushing against his lower back, heavy and hard, and he had to bite back a moan of desire when he felt a pair of warm, wet hands touch him as they began a slow, sensual journey up his back toward his shoulders. He could smell some exotic-type scent in the air as he realized he was about to be treated to one of his favorite activities by his sexy spouse: a full-body massage.

He sighed in pleasure as he felt Justin's fingers slowly kneading the tense knots away from his shoulders; Justin had such talented hands, and his long fingers were perfect for finding just the right spots to relax him. How did his husband always know exactly what he needed? "That feels so fucking good," he couldn't help murmuring as Justin leaned down to brush his lips against Brian's neck, his longer hair tickling his skin.

"You work too hard," Justin whispered to him as his hands slowly glided over his shoulders and down his arms, his fingers curled around the taut skin as they traveled over to Brian's waist and then curved around his ass cheeks.

Brian's pulse began to race as Justin began to squeeze his buttocks and then pull them slightly apart; a few seconds later he bucked slightly off the bed when Justin blew on his hole, followed by a soft laugh.

"Justin..." It wasn't that Brian was adverse to receiving as well as giving; he just preferred to prepare himself a little mentally for it beforehand. Justin was the first - and only man - he would ever give that privilege to, though.

"It's okay, hot stuff," Justin teased him as if he were reading his mind. "I'm not going there tonight. But I just couldn't resist a whiff," he explained. "You just smell too damn good." Justin rose up to kneel between Brian's legs again as he continued to massage the lean limbs, sliding his slickened hands down Brian's thighs with the massage oil and then down to the back of his knees.

By the time he had arrived at Brian's feet and took each one in his hands to gently massage them, Brian was feeling blissfully relaxed. He let out a deep breath of contentment as Justin nudged his left leg slightly in a silent request for him to turn over. As he did, he stared up into the intense blue eyes of his soul mate as Justin smiled lovingly down at him. He shook his head in amazement; even after all this time, the love - the deep, abiding love - he felt for this man threatened to overwhelm him.

"What?" Justin whispered curiously as he once more moved to straddle Brian's thighs, bracing his hands on either side of his waist for balance as he peered down at him.

Brian stared up at him for several seconds before he couldn't help asking softly, "Do you realize just how much I love you?" He watched Justin's face practically glow as he smiled down at him with blinding intensity in reaction, causing his heart to skip a beat in response. He figured that no matter HOW long he and Justin were together, simply being on the receiving end of that smile would always have that effect on him.

"Yeah," Justin whispered. "About as much as I love _you_. I never grow tired of hearing you tell me, though." He idly caressed Brian's skin with his thumbs as he stared into his eyes, wondering where this was leading.

Brian reached up to play with the back of his husband's hair as he nodded; they were both way past the point where he tried to deny his feelings for him. He let out a long breath before he admitted with undisguised candor, "Justin, I just hope we know what we're doing."

"You'll be fine with her, Brian," he assured him. "You're great with Gus, and when it's all said and done, this is not going to be all that different than that."

Brian gave him a long-suffering look as he told him, "Justin, you know that's not true. Alex is going to come with a lot more baggage than Gus _ever_ did." He shook his head. "That's not what I meant anyway. I imagine she'll be a pain in the ass sometimes - I've seen her stellar, past performances," he clarified ruefully. "But that's not what I was trying to say."

"Then what?" Justin pressed him quietly. He stared down into the familiar, hazel eyes silently.

Brian reached to place his hands on top of Justin's as he explained, "Don't misunderstand. I intend to follow through on my promise to give Alex some stability. I promised, and I _keep_ my promises." He peered up into Justin's curious eyes as he told him, "This..." He chose his words carefully. "What we _have_ here. It was a hell of a year what with everything that occurred regarding Fin's campaign. You know how much I was away during that time. It didn't leave us with a lot of personal time to be alone."

Justin nodded. "I know," he admitted. He peered into Brian's eyes, reliving everything that had happened the past several months since they had returned from their honeymoon. "I missed you like crazy," he admitted. "I _always _miss you when you're not here with me, though." He paused for a moment before asking, "Is that why you're hesitating? Because you think having her here will interfere with that...with us?"

"Don't you have the same concern?" was the quiet entreaty.

They locked gazes for a moment until Justin had to concede, "I know it will mean some changes for us..."

Brian huffed. "You're a master of understatement, Sunshine."

Justin offered him a grudging smile. "Well, it's not like she's a newborn, Brian."

"Not in actual age, anyway. Maturity wise? That's another matter." He sighed. "Can we at least agree on something before we're done with the training program and we have to meet this challenge head on?"

"What do you have in mind?"

"Let's just make a promise to each other that we won't let this new arrangement prevent us from spending some time alone together. Surely between Debbie and your mom, we can make that happen. Okay?"

Justin gave him a smile before nodding. "Okay."

Brian nodded back at him. "Good. Then you can start right now."

"Excuse me?" Justin laughed, knowing full well what he was talking about.

"If I recall correctly, before we engaged in this stimulating conversation, I was just about to do some 'stimulating' of my own." Brian slid his right hand down to curl it around his husband's cock, eliciting a soft grunt. "Now why don't you slide back up here where you belong, Sunshine? I'm in the mood for you to do some riding."

Justin giggled. "You are, are you?" Brian nodded, curling his lips under playfully as Justin nodded back at him, reaching over to slide open their bedside table to snag a small tube of lube. "Well, it just so happens I'm feeling the same way." Flipping open the top, he squeezed some onto his hands and took a few moments to slide the clear gel up and down Brian's cock to coat it before doing the same to his own body. Locking his eyes onto his husband's, he used the strong muscles of his thighs to lift himself up, just enough to firmly impale himself onto the hard, silky flesh.

"Ahh..." Brian moaned at the contact. "So good, Justin..." _This - this closeness. This is what I have been missing..._

Gripping Brian's waist firmly, Justin proceeded to vigorously ride up and down on Brian's cock, angling his movements to elicit a series of appreciative moans from below. It didn't take very long for either man to reach climax as Justin fell forward onto Brian's chest in post-coital exhaustion, the two exchanging a deep, languorous kiss as he lay sprawled on top of him. To Justin, being able to maintain their physical union without the need to separate quickly was one of the things he treasured the most about their intimacy.

Brian's arms wrapped around Justin's back as he held him protectively, slowly caressing his husband's sweaty skin. He could feel his lover's heartbeat, steady and strong, between them, and hear his soft pants of breath as they lay there as one. _God, I love this man so much, _he couldn't help thinking. Everything they had been through - everything they had experienced over the years - had brought them to this point. HE didn't know what the future would hold - especially with a certain, rebellious firebrand about to set down inside their house like a tornado - but as he held Justin in his arms, somehow he knew it would work out.

He was about to drift off to sleep when he felt Justin shifting on top of him. Opening his eyes to gaze into sleepy, blue ones, he whispered, "Justin? You okay?"

Justin nodded as they moved of one accord to lie on their sides then to be more comfortable, facing each other. There they remained, arms, hands, and legs entwined, until the first rays of sunlight flooded the room the next morning.

* * *

_The Next Morning - Harrisburg Law Offices of Cassinelli & Schwinn _

"What the hell?" Tony muttered in disbelief as he slid his car into his parking spot behind the restored, two-story, Victorian home that held the offices for him, one other senior attorney, and their staff. Every parking spot was taken where their clients normally parked, which was unheard of this early in the morning. As he stopped the car and turned off the motor, he noticed a group of unfamiliar people standing near the back door which served as the main entrance to the home, and groaned in epiphany. "Shit," he muttered. He immediately knew these people were not clients. More like bottom feeders...

Sighing heavily - and dreading what was about to occur - he opened up the car door and slid out, slamming it in annoyance, which only served to attract the notice of the throng of media standing by the back entrance. As he opened up the backseat and retrieved his briefcase, he had just enough time to close the passenger door and turn around before he was inundated with a flurry of cameras, microphones, and pushy people in his face, throwing a barrage of questions at him like a battering ram:

"Mr. Cassinelli, will you be moving to the governor's mansion with the Governor Elect...?"

"How does it feel to be the partner of the first successful gay candidate to become Governor...?"

"What kind of challenges do you think Senator O'Connor will be facing...?"

"How do you think the voters are feeling right now...?"

"Will you be giving up your law practice...?"

"Will we see the first gay wedding in the governor's mansion?"

Tony's eyes flashed with anger and his face reddened in disbelief. _What the fuck...? _

He forced himself to take a deep breath, knowing his reaction would no doubt be broadcast to every news outlet in the state - and perhaps the country. For Fin, then, he would hold his temper, as difficult as that might be.

He waited until there was enough of a lull in the constant din of voices before he spoke up, clearly and distinctly. "This is private property and my place of employment - and those questions are either none of your business, or best answered by the Senator. Now either leave...or I will call someone to _make_ you leave. Your choice."

He had to literally push one of the taller reporters forcibly out of the way then, almost tripping on the burly guy's feet before he stumbled and just barely managed to right himself by grasping onto the front of his car.

"Tony!" he heard someone calling his name, as he looked up to find his law partner of 15 years, Martin Schwinn, heading towards him, practically flinging people aside as he went. He and Marty had gone to law school together - his fairer complexion and blond hair a stark contrast to Marty's big, stocky, dark-haired persona - but they had bonded over late nights of studying and their love of dark beer and pizza when they wound up rooming together. They had had this notion of defending the downtrodden and saving the world from injustice, and while their current roles as criminal attorneys didn't quite fit that mold, it came as close as they could come.

Nostrils flaring and dark green eyes blazing, Marty snarled at the nearest reporters, "Get the fuck _away_ from him!" before he grasped Tony firmly by the sleeve and pushed his way through the boisterous, pushy crowd until they were able to scamper up the back steps and hurriedly enter the remodeled home, one of their junior attorneys quickly opening and closing the door and locking it behind them as soon as they were safely inside.

"Shit, Tony! Are you okay?" Marty asked his colleague and friend in concern as they slumped down into the nearby reception-area couch located just inside the door. "I looked out there a few minutes ago, and the damn parking lot looked like some sort of cattle auction taking place! What in the hell?"

Tony sighed, his heart still pounding somewhat by the jostling he had received. For the first time, he had some inkling of what Justin must have gone through after his bashing when he had been afraid to be out in the crowds; what he _still_ felt from time to time. "Yeah, I'm okay," he assured his friend as he smoothed out his suit jacket; he nodded as one of the junior attorneys handed him a mug of coffee. "Thanks," he told the man gratefully, noticing his hand shaking slightly. "I had no idea that would happen. What in the world do they think they're doing? This is a fucking _law_ office, not Ringling Brothers! How will our clients even get in here now? We need to call the police and report those assholes for trespassing!" He sighed heavily in frustration. "We can't do business this way!"

"Tony, calm down," Marty soothed him as he grasped his shoulder and gave it a brief squeeze. "It's not worth getting your blood pressure up." Marty peered over at their bespectacled, younger colleague. "Terry, will you call Sheriff Kline down the street and ask one of his men to come up here and get rid of these idiots? Thanks," he added as the other man nodded and walked away to retrieve his cellphone from his office.

Marty gazed sympathetically over at his friend and partner. "I'm sorry you're having to go through this," he told him. "But surely you're not all that surprised. After all, the first gay governor to be elected in Pennsylvania? That's big news, my friend."

Tony shook his head in disgust. "Maybe," he conceded. "But why does it have to _be_ that way? Why does Fin's sexual orientation matter? What does that have to do with his competency or qualifications to be governor? Why isn't his experience and his ability to lead the state more important? Do you want to hear what kind of asinine questions they were asking me? _How's it feel to be the partner of the first gay governor of Pennsylvania? Will we see the first gay wedding in the governor's mansion?_" Tony repeated as he fumed. "Fuck. This is what I was afraid of; this is exactly what I told Fin would occur. Those questions are more like what a tabloid would ask. They should all be worried about what the future of the State is, not what our personal lives are like! I knew this would happen. And now it's all coming true. Shit, the man hasn't even been sworn in yet!"

"Tony..."

Tony pursed his lips tightly together in agitation, and took a deep breath to try and compose himself. He wouldn't admit that the last question thrown at him had shaken him a bit. That had come a little too close to home; at least as far as it being one of his most fervent wishes. He didn't give a rat's ass if it happened at the governor's mansion, though. But if he tried to deny that he didn't wish for him and Fin to be married one day, he would be lying to everyone, including himself. He looked over at his friend apologetically. "I'm sorry about this, Marty. I had no idea they would come here and be so disruptive. I guess for someone who's considered a street-smart attorney - and for someone whose partner is a high-ranking politician - I'm pretty clueless when it comes to what lengths the press will go to for a story." He shook his head. "Pretty stupid, too, considering what happened during Fin's campaign." He sighed again. "I guess I just thought that now that the election was actually over that things might die down for a while, at least until January when he's sworn in. Oh, my God."

"Tony, we'll get rid of them..."

"Maybe for now, Marty. But what about all the other days? The last thing I want is everything we've worked for to be disrupted because of this." He paused as an unpleasant idea formed in his mind. "Maybe I should take a brief leave of absence around the first of the year, at least until some of this dies down. Terry's been wanting to get his feet wet a little more, and actually try a case in front of Judge Winston. Maybe it's time we give him a chance." Despite his attempt at sounding confident, however, inside Tony's heart was sinking just a little. He was fiercely loyal and protective of his clients, and to have them summarily handed over to a junior attorney - no matter _how_ ambitious - did not sit well with him.

Fortunately, his friend felt much the same way. "Tony, come _on_! Terry's quite capable of doing the grunt work - and maybe representing some of the smaller cases in court. But we both know he's no match for your combat skills in front of Judge Winston! No one can stand up to him like you do. And I know you will not forgive yourself if we go in there with our next case and wind up losing because our client wasn't represented by the best there is. And that's _you_. I'm good at the drudgery and researching case law when necessary, but when it comes to defending our clients and pleading their case to the judge and the jury, no one surpasses your passion for that. Besides, my friend, I know you can handle whatever is thrown your way, even this. And you won't be able to sit on your hands for the next few months; I know you too well. You thrive on challenges."

Tony smiled over at him ruefully. "Yeah, I guess you do know me. Maybe sometimes even better than Fin knows me."

Marty chuckled. "Well, all except in the Biblical sense, anyway." Tony laughed now as he added firmly, "So no more talk of that, okay? We have too much work to do here! So I suggest we get busy. I'll have Terry keep an eye out for the sheriff; I'm sure he'll take care of them. He _owes_ us for all those damn Police Ball sponsorships he's always hawking on us."

Tony grinned. "Thanks, Marty," he told him softly, his smile dissolving into something more apologetic. "Sorry I was freaking out on you. I know you're right. Just give me another round of black coffee, and I'll be good as new, promise."

Marty laughed. "Deal," he told him as he rose from the couch. "Now let's get back to work, Counselor."

Tony smiled gratefully, a little more at ease now, as he nodded and rose to join him. "Let me check my calendar for today, and I'll be right there."

Nodding back at him in relief, Marty turned and headed down the home's hallway, the older hardwood floor creaking slightly under his weight as he did so. Tony took another sip of his coffee before pulling out his cellphone, noticing the signal that a text had come in. He had been so busy warding off the vultures outside that he hadn't even heard the soft ping that normally told him he had been sent a message.

Sliding his finger over the LCD surface to bring up the message, he had to smile as he glanced at it. _How do you always know when I need you_? He couldn't help silently wondering as he read Fin's text:

_Thinking of you. Constantly. You're what gets me through the crazy times. Love you. F_

Tears springing briefly to his eyes, Tony lovingly brushed his fingers over the message before responding:

_Me, too. Come home on time tonight. I need you. I love you. T_

It wasn't more than a few seconds before his phone pinged softly, and he cursed inwardly at his poor choice of words. The last thing he wanted was to worry his lover.

_Everything okay, Counselor? _

He took a deep breath before texting: _It will be, as soon as I see you. I'm fine, my love. Got to go, Mr. Governor-Elect. Steaks and baked potatoes at 7?_

He laughed a few seconds later when Fin responded:

_With sour cream and sex, too? Not particularly in that order. :D_

"Tony? Ready?"

Tony nodded over at Marty, who had reappeared in the doorway when he wound up taking too long. "Yeah, I'll be right there."

"I'll be in the conference room, then." Turning, the other man headed off toward the side room that was adjacent to the kitchen where a covered porch had been enclosed during the remodeling and converted into a client meeting room.

Grinning, Tony hurriedly texted back:

_Sounds good. I'll let YOU pick which one will be the main course. _

Feeling his burden lifting just a bit then, he hurriedly slid his phone back into his suit jacket pocket and hastened to join his colleague.

* * *

_Later that Night...Fin and Tony's house_

"You've been abnormally quiet this evening," Fin murmured as he lay half on, half off his partner's chest, peering down into his beautiful but sweaty face. Gently pushing some plastered hair back from Tony's brow, he gazed into what appeared to be loving but troubled eyes as he cupped his face with both his hands, forcing his partner to look at him and not avert his glance elsewhere. "You want to explain to me what happened earlier, Tony?"

"Nothing happened earlier." He gave his partner a half-laugh. "Except that you fucked my brains out just now and wore me out. No _wonder_ I'm quiet. I'm still trying to catch my breath."

"Nice try, Counselor," was the soft reproach. "Now how about the real reason?" Silence stubbornly prevailed. "Tony?"

"How was YOUR day? After all, you're the one that's about to run a state almost single-handed."

Fin stared into his partner's eyes; had he sensed just of twinge of something else in his voice just then? Bitterness? Irony? Whatever it was, it was noticeable enough to put him on guard. "Don't try and change the subject, Tony."

To his surprise, his partner rewarded him with a derisive sort of half-laugh as he told him, "I'm not. I'm just wondering how many vultures visited YOU today."

"Difficult clients, you mean?"

"No," Tony told him as he placed his hands on Fin's biceps. "The type of vultures who pounce on you and thrust microphones in your face the moment you get out of your car at work."

Fin's face paled slightly in realization. "Oh, shit," he groaned. "Tony..."

Tony shook his head; at least as much as he could with Fin's hands cradling it. "It's okay, Fin. It's not _your_ fault that the media consists of a bunch of morons."

"I should have realized this would happen, though, Tony..."

Tony reached up to grasp Fin's right hand with his left as Fin curled his fingers around it. "Fin...We both knew this was a possibility when you got elected. If this is the result of our being allowed to openly proclaim our relationship to everyone, then it's worth the hassle. I can deal with it." He grimaced. "And hopefully soon they will grow tired of not getting any answers from me, and they will leave me - and my law firm - the hell alone."

"I'm not so sure about that, but I hope so. You had nothing to do with my becoming governor. Well, you know what I mean," Fin hastily added. "What I'm trying to say is that they have no fucking right to harass you because you happen to be my partner."

Tony sighed. "Fin, you know better than that! Look at what happened this past year with all that shit about Adam Stewart, Stockwell, and that other idiot that was a client of Brian's! Not to mention, that Kip Thomas psycho. Your life could be the basis for a soap opera script. The press is probably out there right now by our front gate, salivating at the thought of what dirt they might be able to dig up next. And some of the asinine questions they were asking me..."

"Like what, Tony?" Fin thought his partner looked distinctly uncomfortable as he remained silent. "Tony...What did they ask you?"

"You know reporters..."

"Damn it, Tony! Stop doing that!"

"Doing what?"

"Evading my questions. Not answering them. Just like when I texted you earlier today, and when I asked you what happened a little while ago."

Tony sighed. "Fin, it's not worth the breath to even repeat them, trust me."

Fin's eyes narrowed in determination. He knew his partner so well by now that he realized when he was trying to save him from hearing something unpleasant. And while he loved him for it, he wasn't going to put up with it, especially not now. Not when HE was apparently the cause of his partner's discomfort. "Let me be the judge of that, Counselor," he replied, his voice hard as steel.

"It was nothing, really," Tony hedged, but he knew Fin wasn't going to budge. "Okay, okay," he relented finally. "They asked me some rather innocuous questions like what challenges I thought you would be facing, and how I thought voters were feeling right now. And then they graduated to the more ridiculous questions, like how I felt being the partner of the first gay governor of Pennsylvania, and if I would be moving into the Governor's residence with you, and giving up my law practice! And..." He hesitated then; the last question was still a painful one for him for some reason.

"And...?" Fin prompted with maddening persistence, just like Tony knew he would.

Tony licked his lips nervously to wet them before he took a deep breath and replied, "...and...whether anyone was going to see the first gay wedding in the governor's mansion or not."

"Those bastards!" Fin fumed, his eyes blazing with anger. "They had no right to subject you to that, Tony! I hoped you told them that!"

"Well...I did in so many words...after I told them I would call the police over their trespassing, and Marty came out to help rescue me. Once we were back inside, one of the junior attorneys called the sheriff's department, and they DID come out and make them disperse. And they had a deputy cruise by periodically to make sure they didn't return." He squeezed Fin's hand. "I'm sure they got the message, Fin. It'll die down; you'll see. It'll be fine." He didn't feel the need to tell his lover that he had actually suggested taking a leave of absence; he realized now that his friend had been right, and he was not going to give the press the satisfaction of him backing down from their bullying. He also knew he would feel lost if he had to stand on the sidelines while so many of their important cases were being tried in court. And he knew that Fin would feel guilty about the whole thing, too.

"Well, it'd better be! Fuck. There's protection provided for me as the governor-elect, but not for you. Please be careful, Tony. If anything ever happened to you..." Fin couldn't finish his sentence. After his son almost being assaulted by Stewart - and the hate that had spewed from so many others during his campaign - the fear was uppermost in his mind.

"Fin, they didn't mean me any harm. You know how they can get; I've had to deal with my share of them after controversial verdicts. They take lessons in being obnoxious in college, just like we attorneys do."

Fin finally smiled at that, to Tony's relief, but it was quickly replaced by a more serious expression. "Tony, about that last question..."

Tony held his breath. "Yes?" He knew he should just say that it didn't matter, that it was silly. But deep down, it wasn't. To have the chance to marry the man he considered his soul mate was the ultimate dream for him. He knew Fin loved him deeply, just like he loved HIM. But there was just something about proclaiming it so openly, so officially, that appealed to the romantic in him.

Fin appeared uncomfortable now, causing Tony's heart to sink a little. "You know I love you, Tony. More than my life. More than _anything_."

"Why do I feel a 'but' coming here, though?" Tony murmured.

"No. No 'buts.' I'm not saying it will never happen. I just don't like others dictating it to me, like we're rehearsing for some play or something. And if - and when - it _does _happen, I want it to happen because it's the right thing for us to do, not because it would make for some sensational media story in the press. You understand what I mean?"

Tony swallowed, forcing his expression to remain neutral. Yes, he understood _intellectually_. His heart, however, was a different matter. At least Fin hadn't come right out and totally dismissed the idea. "Of course I do," he finally whispered with a half-smile. "I want it to be our decision, too. And besides, you have far too much going on right now to worry about that sort of thing anyway."

"Tony, it's not that it's unimportant," Fin chided him gently. "I told you, my love. You're the most important thing in my life. Above everything else. That has not changed. And will NEVER change. Okay?"

Tony nodded as a more genuine smile appeared on his face now. "Okay."

Fin nodded back at him in relief. "I'm still worried about the press hounding you, though. I can arrange on my own dime to have some sort of security put in place..."

"No, Fin. I love you for suggesting it, but the sheriff promised to keep an eye on things and I think once they realize I'm not going to give them any information about you, they'll back off."

"Maybe," Fin responded a little skeptically. "But you promise me you will let me know if they keep harassing you, okay? I mean it. Promise me, Tony." He gently but firmly gripped his partner's jaw for emphasis as blue eyes gazed up into his.

"Such a caveman," Tony teased him as Fin giared at him in reaction. "I promise, Senator, Governor Elect..." He frowned. "What am I going to call you now?" he asked with a grin.

"Just call me your partner," Fin replied softly as Tony's heart melted in response. "That's all I ask. That's all I _need_."

Tony nodded. "You'll always be called that," he murmured as Fin pulled their mouths together for a deep kiss, their passion blazing anew once more.

* * *

_Two Weeks Later..._

"I just need for you sign right here, Mr. Kinney," the social worker instructed Brian as she pointed one well-lacquered finger at the signature line on the foster parenting form. "And then Mr. Taylor right beneath your signature."

Brian took a breath to steel himself before, with a flourish, he signed his name boldly in the space indicated, his eyes meeting his husband's as he handed Justin the pen to use. Justin smiled at him softly before he, too, signed beneath Brian's more dramatic signature.

The social worker, a middle-aged woman with an ample bosom, short, curly, light brown hair, and wearing an ensemble of navy blue knit pants with a white blouse and a matching blue jacket, smiled. "That should take care of it," she announced as she glanced over at her temporary charge, internally sighing at the scowl on her face. It wasn't uncommon for children who had been misplaced from their families to experience some anxiety and trepidation when they were initially placed in a new foster home. But the grandiosity of the home she was about to be fostered in, along with the impressive credentials of the two men who had undergone training expressly to become the girl's foster parents, boded well for her to be provided with a stable, loving, home environment. She couldn't fathom, then, why this girl seemed so intent on sabotaging that. Hopefully, however, she would come to realize just how lucky she was.

"Well, Alex, this is where I say goodbye," the woman announced as she smiled over at the sullen, young girl. She cleared her throat nervously, her face dissolving into something more businesslike as she peered over at the two husbands. "If you need anything, please feel free to contact me at the number on my business card."

"Thank you," Justin told her as he walked over toward her. "I'll show you out."

The woman nodded as the two of them proceeded down the hallway toward the front door, temporarily leaving Brian and Alex alone in the massive study. It was late afternoon; the time when the sun bathed the room with bright light, creating ribbons of multi-colored prisms on the walls as it reflected through the antique, stained-glass windows of the Tudor home. Brian secretly loved this time of day; after a productive but highly stressful day at work, it was always the place where he and Justin met to relax and unwind together. As he looked over at their new charge who had her arms crossed over her chest in a defensive type posture, however, he sighed. It seemed that his and Justin's solitude and time of relaxation were at least temporarily going to be disrupted. But he _had _promised. And he was going to try his best to keep that promise - and to make the best of it for all their sakes.

"Hungry?" he asked her softly as she stood there, facing him from several feet away.

The only response he received from her was a noncommittal shrug; Alex had been remarkably quiet ever since she had arrived with the social worker, carrying a small, wheeled piece of luggage that Debbie must have gifted her with; he knew when he had first found her, she was carrying pretty much everything she owned in a plastic grocery bag. He felt a twinge of sadness at the size of the container that apparently comprised the girl's entire possessions, but he also knew that going forward, her life was going to be dramatically different. For as much as he still did not quite understand Alex, he _would_ ensure that she wouldn't need or want for anything. That didn't mean that she wouldn't be expected to at least partially work for it, though.

"Well, Justin has some barbeque cooking in the crock pot," he informed her as he returned to join them. "We're going to have some sandwiches out on the back patio in about an hour to take advantage of the weather." Even with it being late fall, the day had been one of those oddities where the temperature had risen into the low 60's, so they had decided to take advantage of what might be the last gasp of warmth before winter set in soon.

"That's right," Justin told her with a smile. "You've got enough time, then, to head up to your room and wash up before dinner."

For the first time, Alex spoke up. "Why do I need to wash up for barbeque sandwiches? This isn't Buckingham Palace," she quipped as she looked over at Brian with a smirk. "And you're certainly no queen."

Justin had to suppress a guffaw at that statement as Brian looked over at her with irritation over her remark. He wasn't sure if he totally agreed with that statement or not, since he wasn't the _only_ one who could do queen outs on occasion when the appropriate occasion arose.

"Well, you're certainly no _princess_ yourself," Brian couldn't help retorting in response. "It's called manners, which you seem to be sadly lacking in. He forced himself to bite back a scathing reply as he requested instead, "Now will you please just do as Justin asks?" He shook his head slightly in irritation as he turned to his husband to advise, "I think I'll let YOU show Her Highness where her room is." He sighed as his temporary flare-up of anger slowly dissipated. He _had _promised Justin. And he knew if they were going to continue to make any headway, all of them were going to have to compromise. "I'll get out what we need for the sandwiches and meet you out back."

Justin nodded as Brian turned without another word and headed down the hallway toward the back of the house. A few minutes later, he heard one of the cabinets being opened as his husband began to retrieve some plates and glasses for their meal.

"You know...Brian and I are _not_ your enemy, Alex," he told the girl softly. "We're trying to help you here."

"You're just doing this to make yourself feel good," Alex maintained staunchly as she eyed him from a few feet away, her left hand reaching out to tightly clutch the handle of her suitcase as if it were a lifeline of some sort. "Why else would you be doing this?"

"I _told_ you," Justin replied a little defensively. How stubborn could this girl be? He knew Alex had to have experienced a wealth of misery and neglect in her relatively short lifetime. But he also knew this would only work if she would learn to trust them - and trust that they meant her no harm. And the girl still needed to learn some manners. Well, he could be just as stubborn - and determined - as she could be.

He took a deep breath to collect himself before he spoke. The foster parenting classes had helped prepare him and Brian somewhat for what to expect with Alex. But no class could anticipate every situation they would encounter. And he had no experience at all as a father figure, much less one to a rather petulant pre-teen. But he had to try. "Alex, do you remember our talk in the diner that one day?" he asked her quietly.

He saw a flicker of confusion cross the young girl's face before she told him, "Yeah, I remember it. What about it?"

"Well, then, I'm sure you remember what I told you about being kicked out of my house after my father found out I was gay - and after he found out I was involved with Brian."

Alex stared over at him, wrapping her arms around herself protectively. "I remember."

Justin nodded as he heard Brian sliding the back screen door open and then shutting it back behind him on his way to the patio. "Well, I know all too well what it's like to feel scared and alone. And to not know where to go. If it hadn't been for Debbie, I don't know _what_ I would have done." He paused, trying to figure out the right way to get through to this stubborn but fragile girl.

"You know, I wasn't much older back then than you are now, Alex. So I can understand how scary it can be to be plopped into some place you're not familiar with, and not know if you can really trust that person or not." He thought he saw a flicker of grudging agreement cross her face then. "And while I can't really relate to having parents who were spaced out on drugs all the time - or how it must feel to have to worry about where your next meal is coming from - I _do_ know all too well what it's like to feel alone and scared, and not know where you belong in the world. I've been there, Alex. And I will never forget how that feels. But I also know that things can and will get better, no matter _how_ bleak they may appear at times, if only you're willing to believe that."

He walked over to her, careful not to step too closely into her personal space. He knew he and Brian needed to tread carefully with this complex girl, despite the outer shell of bravado and toughness she always exuded. For that's exactly what he knew it was - a shell, a defensive mechanism. He had seen a layer of that shell peel away, however, the night that he had discovered her and Brian together up in JR's guest room, and he felt the two of them had bonded somewhat the day of their lunch here with Debbie, and in the diner. He only had to figure out how to unlock more of that side of her, and let her realize that he and Brian were not her enemies.

"Alex, trust me. If we didn't want you here, if we weren't willing to participate in this 100%, we would have never agreed to do it. Brian and I have both had experience with feeling alienated from our family, and not feeling like we belonged. We decided that we want to try and help you not to feel that same way and maybe help to make your life better for you. That's all there is to it. So, yeah, maybe by helping you it _will_ make us feel good to know that we have made a difference in your life. There's no hidden motive here. I'm sure it's hard to trust other people, especially after everything you've been through. But if you never do, you'll never know what wonderful things are out there for you, and you'll never learn what your full potential can be." He was rewarded with a skeptical look in response as he sighed. "When I was assaulted back in high school, my right hand was affected. I was told I would probably never be able to draw again. Do you know how that made me feel? How worthless I felt? How _damaged_ I felt?" He swallowed hard. Even now it was difficult to talk about, even though it was so long ago. "But you know what, Alex? They were wrong. Yeah, it took time. And sometimes my hand _still_ aches when I overuse it. But even if I _couldn't_ have gone back to the traditional way of drawing, thanks in part to Brian and some other people who cared about me, I found new ways to cope with what I might have lost. And every adversity that you face - every challenge you confront - will only make you a stronger person for it."

At last he saw a slight smirk cross her face as she replied, "What were you in a previous life? A psychologist or something?"

Justin couldn't help but smile slightly at that comment as he replied honestly, "No. Just someone who cares about you and wants you to know that you're not alone here. Okay?"

Alex sighed as she uncrossed her arms. "Okay," she grumbled. "But I still don't see why they say cleanliness is next to Godliness. I don't think He cares much one way or the other when barbeque is served."

Justin grinned. "Nice try. Now go get washed up and meet Brian and me outside. We'll have it ready for you." He watched as, with another roll of her eyes, Alex turned and trudged down the hallway, leaving her suitcase near the open door; a few seconds later, he let out a big sigh of relief as he heard the half-bathroom door being closed. He jumped slightly, however, when he heard Brian clapping his hands nearby.

"Bravo, Sunshine," Brian murmured as he walked up to his husband to face him and placed his hands on Justin's shoulders. Justin slid his arms around Brian's waist.

"How long have you been there, you coward?" he asked, one eyebrow arched in accusation.

Brian smiled. "Long enough to see you in action. I think you've been taking lessons from Tony. Of course, I _already_ know how persuasive you can be when you really need to be."

Justin glanced behind them to make sure Alex wasn't overhearing before he broke off their embrace to grab Brian by the hand. "Come on, let's take this outside before she overhears. I'm beginning to think that girl can not only see through walls, but also hear with the ears of an owl." Brian nodded as they headed back out toward the patio, now fully set for their casual meal.

* * *

_A few minutes later..._

Justin smiled his thanks as Brian handed him a glass of iced tea. "Brian?" he asked from his place at the patio table.

Brian peered down at him through his mirrored sunglasses. "Yeah?"

"I hope we know what we're doing."

Brian laughed as he sat down next to his husband. "NOW you're wondering that?" he asked with a smile. "That should be MY line." His smile slowly faded into a more serious expression as he told him softly but firmly, "Justin, if anyone can be a fantastic foster parent - even without any prior experience - it's _you_. Look how you handled her in there just now. You're a natural, Sunshine." He reached over to squeeze his hand. "You can do this. WE can do this." He grimaced. "Even though all my hair may be gray and brittle by the time we're done doing it - if I have any left at all."

Justin reached up and brushed his fingers through the thick, soft, auburn hair. "Oh, I doubt that will happen. There's nothing that a little hair color won't do to hide it, anyway," he teased as Brian glared at him. "I know this isn't easy for you, either," he told him seriously as his fingers feathered the hair at the back of Brian's neck. "But I love you for your willingness to try." He reached over to pull Brian closer so he could briefly kiss him on the lips before pulling back to add, "You know, she was wondering how long this would last. Our taking care of her, I mean."

Brian shrugged. "Well, as far as Carl can figure out, there aren't any living relatives. So it would depend upon whether anyone petitions the State for adoption. At her age - and with _her_ temperament, that's not too likely."

"I know," Justin replied, his eyes darting toward the back, sliding glass door to make sure Alex wasn't coming. "Brian, we both know the odds are extremely high that she will wind up back in the foster system again after our agreed period of commitment is over."

Brian nodded. "I know. But our agreement is only until they find another placement for her, Justin."

"Yes, but I'm sure we could extend it if we wanted to..."

"Justin..."

"I'm just saying..."

Brian huffed out a slightly irritated breath. "We just had her placed with us today! Let's wait and see what happens first, okay?"

Justin sighed. "Okay. I know, I know..."

"Besides, we need to establish some ground rules first - and we need to get her enrolled in school as soon as possible."

"The social worker said she'll need a lot of testing - and probably some tutoring - to even determine what grade level to place her in. If she winds up having to be placed in a lower level grade, what is that going to do to her self-esteem? Maybe we can have her privately tutored until she is caught up - that might be best. She's smart, Brian, I can tell."

Brian snorted. "_Too_ smart." He sighed as they both heard the sliding glass door being opened. "Let's wait until after the testing's done, and then we'll decide what to do about her schooling, okay?"

Justin nodded in agreement as Alex appeared in the doorway, sliding the glass door shut as she walked over to them. He smiled over at her reassuringly. "Come and eat," he urged her as she shuffled over to them and, pulling out a chair next to them, unceremoniously plopped down in a rather unladylike fashion. Both men noticed - oddly for the first time - that she was wearing one of her typical hoodies, but at least she had the hood part pulled down so they could see her face this time, unlike the one night at Debbie's.

They watched out of the corner of their eye as their charge took an enthusiastic taste of her sandwich sitting in front of her before putting it down on her plate, using the tip of her tongue to catch a bite that had gathered at the corner of her mouth. Noticing both of them peering over at her in amusement, she shrugged in response, causing them both to smile at her.

"Good?" Brian asked as she grudgingly nodded. "Justin's quite the cook," he told her as his husband blushed at the compliment, just like Brian knew he would.

"It's actually Tony's recipe," Justin pointed out as Brian snickered.

"The happy housewives swapping recipes on the road; I knew that was going to happen," he quipped.

"Fuck you," Justin fired back playfully before he clamped his hand over his mouth and peered over at Alex regretfully. "Sorry," he told her as she shook her head.

"You think I haven't heard it before?" she retorted with another roll of her eyes. "My parents swore like sailors when they were high - or drunk," she revealed as she continued to nonchalantly eat her meal as if it was no big deal.

Justin locked gazes with Brian, his eyes full of sorrow. No child should have to deal with that sort of thing, he thought silently. Swallowing hard, he worried his lower lip briefly as he reached inside his jeans pocket and retrieved the item tucked inside. "Do you remember this, Alex?" he asked quietly as he held the paper napkin out toward her.

"Where...where did you get that?" she asked.

"You know where," he told her softly. "It's the napkin you were drawing on a few weeks ago..."

"I know what it is," was the slightly sharp rejoinder. "What are you doing with it? Why would you keep it?"

Glancing over briefly at Brian for support, he saw him nod his head imperceptibly before he responded with a smile, "Because I thought it was lovely. You are very talented artistically, Alex. You should develop that talent." He paused for a moment before he asked quietly, "Is this your mother? It looks like an older version of you."

He watched as Alex's eyes glistened briefly before she wiped them away with the sleeve of her light gray hoodie, seemingly out of embarrassment. "Yeah, that's her," she told him tersely. "Before she became a druggie and her teeth started rotting out." She shook her head, almost as if to shake the memory from her mind. "She didn't even realize what she was doing to herself," she told them as she gazed down at the beautiful, dark-haired woman peering back at her. "She used to be so...so _beautiful." _She took a deep breath to compose herself. "She wasn't always a bad mother."

"I'm sure she wasn't," Justin reassured her. "I'd like to hear more about her sometime." He began to reach over to grasp her hand in comfort, but she pulled it back just in time for him to miss it. "Alex..."

"Look, I know what you're trying to do," she told him, her eyes meeting his unflinchingly now. "And I can even believe you mean well. _Both_ of you," she admitted. "But you'll never be my dads - or my mom. And I know this is just temporary. So you don't have to worry about the touchy-feely stuff, okay?"

"Yes, it is temporary," Brian told her truthfully. "That's how the foster system works. But it could be months before you're assigned to someone else. In the meantime, we want you to feel as comfortable here as possible."

"Assigned somewhere else?" It didn't take long for Alex to pick up on that, and she found to her surprise that she didn't like the sound of it. "You mean when I wear out my welcome, and I start to become an inconvenience to you."

Brian sighed as he held up his hand to Justin to signify it was his turn to speak. "Alex, foster parenting by its very nature is 'temporary.' It could be two months from now, or two years. We have no way of knowing how long you'll be here. But you have a choice. You can either choose to make the most of it - and both Justin & I are prepared to make that happen - or you can sit around the house here, moping and sulking and accomplishing nothing. Which one would you rather do?"

Her eyes flashed in irritation. "You make it sound so easy. Of course, it WOULD be for you."

Brian shook his head. "No, that's where you're wrong. Nothing worth doing is _ever _easy. Nothing that's worthwhile, anyway." He glanced over at Justin before continuing, knowing that some of this would be news to him as well. "You think I had everything handed to me, Alex? You think all this came easily? Well, let me straighten you out. All of this was the result of hard work, clear and simple. My parents were - to put it bluntly - pricks. Selfish, cold, pricks who viewed me as more of a burden or an obligation, rather than as a child to be loved. I never did feel like part of that family, even before I found out I was adopted. I wasn't handed everything on a silver platter, trust me. And I had more than my share of beatings and whippings, too." He stared into her eyes, noting a hint of surprise there. "You've already found out that life isn't fair. But it CAN be better for you - if you will let Justin and me help you. And if you will help yourself." He paused for a few seconds before he explained, "You won't have everything handed to you here, though; not without taking some responsibility. Part of the fostering agreement we signed includes a requirement that you attend school. And you will be expected to keep your room clean at all times, and you will be given other chores to do as well."

"And what if I don't _do_ these 'chores?' You're not my parents."

_What an ungrateful little shit_, Brian couldn't help thinking initially. But he held his tongue. He didn't have to be an expert at fostering - or parenting - to know that there was more going on here than some pre-pubescent rebellion over having to do chores. He noticed, too, that she hadn't mentioned school. Could that possibly mean that she actually _wanted_ to go to school? Perhaps that was a hopeful sign.

Before he had a chance to respond in any manner, however, Justin spoke up. "It's not up for negotiation, Alex," he told her quietly in support. "It's part of the deal. We _want_ you to stay here with us. If we didn't, we would have never offered. But it's a two-way street. It's not a free pass. With privilege comes responsibility."

"Oh, my God!" she huffed out. "That makes you sound like you're 80."

Justin had to smile at that. No one had ever accused him of sounding 'old' before. "That's a new one," he told her dryly before he turned more solemn. "We're not asking much of you here. Merely to keep your room tidy, do your schoolwork, and help out when and where we need you to. So do we have a deal? Or do we just call this whole thing off now?" He held his breath. Even though he had never imagined becoming a foster parent to a pre-teen before - and even though he had had his heart set on a baby in the household initially - he was surprised to discover that he really did want this to work out, for both her - and Brian's sake. For he was beginning to understand that his husband had more at stake here than he initially realized - and more of his heart invested in it. Alex's situation was hitting much closer to home than he would have ever thought. He wanted this to work. It _had _to work.

"I'm not cleaning out horse shit," she warned him as he turned his attention back to her. "I'm allergic to it."

Brian rolled his eyes; he highly doubted that. Anyone who could go dumpster diving probably didn't have any such sensitivities. "Well, we'll cross that off the list then," he told her wryly. "We'll put you on latrine duty instead. All six of them."

"Brian..."

Justin received a raised eyebrow from his husband in reaction to his warning as Alex narrowed her eyes in suspicion. "What's that?"

"Oh, it's an elegant French word, kind of like _bidet_," Brian told her with a smirk.

Alex shook her head in confusion. She didn't know what a bidet was, either, but something told her neither one was probably a pleasant topic; at least, not by the satisfied-looking, smug expression on Brian's face. She turned to Justin with a quizzical look on her face.

Justin sighed as he told her simply, "It means a toilet, Alex."

Alex's mouth hung open in disgust as well as shock. "You have SIX bathrooms here?"

Brian shrugged. "It's three floors," he explained. "You expect me to walk up three flights of steps just to take a piss?"

"I am NOT cleaning toilets!" Alex growled as she abruptly pushed back from the table. "This is worse than being in juvenile detention!" She stomped - well, as much as she could on sneakered feet - toward the back door and roughly pulled it open, banging it hard as she disappeared inside.

Justin winced as the door rattled against the frame. "Well, that went well," he commented sardonically. "Brian, did you have to be so caustic with her? We were just starting to make some progress. Why did you have to do that?"

Brian rubbed his face with his hand before responding quietly, his pupils darting rapidly back and forth like they always did when he was agitated, "Justin, we already talked about this. I really do want to help her. Otherwise I wouldn't be going through with all his hassle. But let's face it; this girl has an attitude problem. I know she's had a hard life. But that doesn't excuse rudeness. It's called using tough love; and fuck, does she need it! She has to earn our respect, not expect to just sit on her ass and do nothing while she's here. Let her queen out a little," he told him. "She has to learn that this is not a free ride."

Justin sighed. "I know. And I agree. But Brian, can't we ease into this just a bit? She's only 11 years old. She's still basically a little girl."

"I think she's a 67-year-old in an 11-year-old body," Brian decided as he shook his head in resignation. "Okay, Sunshine. I'll try to keep that in mind." He glanced over at her plate and smirked. "At least her appetite didn't suffer." None of the sandwich remained; in fact, without him even realizing it, Alex had managed to finish off everything on her plate in record time, including the sweet potato chips AND the sandwich. It couldn't be because she was being starved lately, either; he was confident that Debbie had made sure she had more than enough to eat while she had been staying with her and Carl. "She better not start squirreling away food up in her bedroom," he said suddenly. "I don't want mice running amok around here."

Justin smiled. "I'll do a full sweep of the premises at bedtime," he promised him as he rose from his chair.

"Where are you going? You haven't even eaten yet. You're not sick, are you?" he teased his husband.

"Ha, ha. I want to go check on her. Come with me."

"Come with you? You're the happy little homo homemaker in our family. I'm sure you're more than capable..."

"We're a team, remember, Mr. Campaign Manager? Well, you have one more, very important campaign to run. Now come on. Consider this our first foster parenting lesson in action. And remember, she's still a little girl."

Brian snorted as he reluctantly pushed back from his chair to stand beside Justin. "More like a piranha," he muttered under his breath. Justin smiled sweetly at him before grabbing his wrist and propelling him toward the backdoor.

* * *

A few minutes later, they finally found their newest member of the household in JR's room, her suitcase resting on top of the matching dresser. Alex was sitting on the edge of the small, twin-sized bed, her arms braced on either side of her body as she swung her legs absently back and forth; she turned her head to peer over at them as they appeared in the doorway, hurriedly wiping her tear-stained face with the back of her sleeve as both men stole a quick glance of realization at each other, both silently deciding to not make a big deal out of it for chance it would either embarrass or agitate her.

Brian was the first one to speak, all irritation gone, though, as he asked her quietly, "What are you doing in _this _room?"

"What? You want me to go sleep in the basement now for punishment? Or maybe the stables would be more appropriate."

Brian sighed wearily. "Don't tempt me," he warned her. "No, what I mean is - your room is down the hall. This is JR's room." Alex gave him a confused look as he added, "She'll need this room from time to time when she visits." He shook his head. "Never mind; long story. Just follow us."

"I'm not staying here in this room, then?"

"No," Justin told her with a smile, anticipating, _hoping_, what her reaction would be when she saw her actual sleeping quarters. "You have your own room. Come on, we'll show you."

They waited near the door until Alex finally slid off the bed and walked over to follow them down the hall. The room they had chosen for her had been the same one that Justin had initially thought would be ideal for a nursery. When he had broached his husband initially with the idea of remodeling the room to be used for Alex's bedroom instead, Brian had pressed him on it to make sure that he was sincere about it. While he had to admit to himself that he _was_ a little disappointed that it wasn't going to be used for its initial, intended purpose, somehow the light-filled, spacious room seemed ideal for a pre-teen with its tall ceiling, window seat overlooking the backyard, and its curved structure that allowed for secluded nooks to be used for a private alcove for schoolwork, reading, or just quiet reflection. Once he got used to the idea of the room being transformed into Alex's bedroom instead of a nursery, Justin had actually enjoyed sketching out new ideas for the space, much like he had done before, watching in satisfaction as it changed from a staid, rather drab area into one fit for a princess; albeit, a rather _unorthodox_ princess. Except for her interest in art, he really had no idea what Alex liked or did not like. Encouraged by Brian's faith in him that he would make the right choices, however, he had wound up going by instinct, then, and hoped that the end result would be something satisfactory to their new foster child.

As he and Brian stood in the doorway now and quietly observed Alex walking up to the room and stopping dead in her tracks, he knew by the look on her face that he had apparently done something right. The only word he could think of to describe the expression reflected on her face was _awe_. Her mouth hung open as her eyes swept around the room to study all aspects of the spacious room, which was presently furnished with a full-sized bed, matching dresser, wooden desk, crystal lamps, and an overstuffed chair. Her gaze came to rest at last on the one object of art that Justin had hung over the dresser for her: the framed portrait that she had admired so much that formerly hung along the steps leading up to the second floor, and she was struck once more by the innocence and tenderness it somehow portrayed.

"I wasn't sure what your favorite colors were," she heard Justin explain as he slowly walked over to stand near her. "So I made them fairly neutral. That way, you can add some decorative touches with the accent colors that you like, such as pillows and other wall hangings."

He had decided on painting two facing walls a light cream color, with the opposite walls a little darker variation. He had purposely not made the room too feminine, however; he knew enough about Alex to realize this would not be her style. "I hope it's satisfactory," he told her, unable to really ascertain what she thought about his decorating ideas.

Finally, Alex turned to face the two men, and Justin was surprised - as well as a little concerned - to see tears in her eyes again. "What?" he probed gently. "Is something wrong?"

Alex merely shook her head.

Justin frowned as he glanced over at Brian. "Then what?" he repeated. Did the room perhaps remind her of something in her past that was unpleasant?

"This...This is _mine_?" she whispered at last, her voice choked with emotion.

Justin heard Brian walk up to them and felt him squeeze his shoulder beside him as he sighed in relief. His emotions skittered from sorrow over how such a relatively small gesture apparently meant so much to this little girl, to pleasure over how much she seemed to like it. He smiled. "Of course it is," he assured her. "For as long as you need it."

She nodded as she turned and walked over to the painting that now hung over her dresser. "This...This is..."

"Yes," Justin confirmed softly. "I thought you might like it to have it hanging in your bedroom. There's plenty of room left for you to hang up other pieces later, and bookshelves for knick knacks or books or other things that you mnight want to collect." He reached up to place his hand over Brian's as they both watched Alex slowly circle the room, pausing occasionally to run her fingers over the padded cushion of the wide window seat, or to trail her hand over the white marble vanity located in the adjoining bathroom, placing her palm down to feel the smooth coolness beneath her. She even took a moment to bring one of the thick, dark blue, Egyptian cotton towels up to her nose and take a whiff as she rubbed it against her cheek to marvel at its softness before emerging back into the bedroom and standing a few feet away, seemingly at a loss for words.

"Why don't you retrieve your suitcase from JR's room so you can put your things away?" Justin suggested at last. Alex nodded as she turned and quietly left the room, leaving the two husbands temporarily alone.

"Well, I never thought I'd see the day," Brian murmured in wonder as she disappeared down the hall.

"What?" Justin asked with a frown as he turned to face Brian, who slid his arms around his waist to pull him closer.

"The day that Alex was stricken speechless," he explained with a snicker as he linked his hands behind Justin's back. His smile faded slightly into something more serious as he told him, "I know this isn't the purpose you originally wanted for this room..."

Justin reached up to briefly place his fingers over Brian's lips as he shook his head. "It's okay," he told him. "Just knowing it makes her happy is good enough for me." He paused as he slid his hand around to lightly grip the back of Brian's neck. "Besides, if - and _when - _we decide to pursue that possibility again, it's not like we don't have other rooms we could use."

"But you said this would be the ideal nursery..."

"I know. But there are other rooms that would work."

Brian nodded as they heard Alex wheeling the small suitcase back down the hallway. "You're really something, you know that?" he told Justin. "I hope she realizes just how lucky she is to have you on her side."

"_Both _of us," Justin corrected him as he gave Brian a peck on the lips; just before Alex reentered the room.

"Uh...We'll let you put your things away," Brian told her as he reached to take her suitcase and lift it to perch on top of the dresser. "When you get done, come on downstairs, and Justin and I will discuss your chores - and what we're going to do about your schooling. And don't even try it," he quietly scolded her as she opened her mouth to protest. "We've already decided what they will be...and under the foster parenting agreement, we have to make sure you are being schooled while you are in our care. So that is not an option. But if it makes you feel any better, we'll scratch latrine duty off the list - for now," he teased her with a crook of his mouth.

Alex huffed and rolled her eyes, but did not make any more attempts to protest.

Deciding he would accept this minor victory, Brian reached for Justin's hand. "Come on, Sunshine," he urged his husband, deciding he could use a shot of Beam to relax a little. "Well meet you down in the study when you're done," he told the young girl as the two men headed out the door and down the hallway.

Alex slowly pulled open the top drawer of the dresser as her eyes lifted to stare at the painting Justin had hung above the piece of furniture. Gazing at it briefly as she admired the soft brushstrokes, she unzipped her suitcase and began to carefully place what meager belongings she had into the drawers, pausing for a moment to lift up a hairbrush and matching, antique, ivory-trimmed, handled mirror lying on top of the dresser to admire them. She felt the elegance of the pearly material in her hands, studying her rather plain reflection in the oval-shaped mirror, before gingerly placing them back down. Pushing the top drawer closed, she turned to look around the obscenely spacious room. It was a room almost as big as her parents' last rental house had been, she decided. It was like some incredible dream. But she knew this was real - amazingly real. With a sudden, joyous smile of realization, she gazed over at the bed before taking a running leap and flopping, belly down, onto the luxurious, pillow-top mattress. Lying there almost spread eagle, she turned her head to inhale the clean scent of the sand-colored comforter and savor the soft plushness before she closed her eyes and was asleep within minutes.

* * *

_Same time..._

"Thanks." Justin nodded his gratitude as Brian handed him a shot of Beam before he sat down next to him on the dark-brown leather sofa in the study. Belting down the fiery liquid in one gulp as he tilted his head back, he blew out a deep breath before placing it down onto the glass-topped coffee table.

Brian chuckled as he, too, knocked back his Beam in one swoop and set his glass down next to his husband's. "If I didn't know better, Sunshine, I'd say you're feeling a little tense yourself. And it's only the first day, too," he reminded him. "Sure you're up to this?"

He leaned back and closed his eyes, laying his head against Brian's chest as he felt his husband's cheek pressed against the top of his head. "Me? I thought _you _were the one with the doubts." He sighed as he opened his eyes back up, knowing Alex would be back down soon. "This isn't going to be easy, is it?" he murmured.

Brian reached to clasp his hand in his. "No," he responded honestly. "But did you see her reaction to what you did up there? It was like a whole different person emerged." He smiled against Justin's head as he peered down at their intertwined hands, briefly admiring the way his husband's wedding band reflected off the nearby table lamp. Even now, he wondered how he had gotten so lucky to find this amazing man for his soul mate. "I didn't know you were going to move that portrait into her room, though."

Justin twisted his head so he could peer up into his husband's eyes. "You don't have a problem with me doing that, do you? I thought you didn't care for it." He hadn't really thought to ask Brian about moving it. His husband had never really cared much for it, but it was still _their_ house, not just his.

Brian snorted as he leaned down and pecked him on the nose. "Of course not! I was just a little surprised. And you actually did me a favor. Alex gets to head off to dreamland by staring at that painting she is evidently enthralled with for some God-awful reason; and I no longer have that beady-eyed, Victorian model for the Gerber baby staring at ME every time I walk up the stairs." He curled his lips under and shuddered melodramatically as Justin smacked him on the chest with his free hand.

"It's not _that _bad," he protested. "I _like_ it. It does an excellent job of portraying the love between a mother and her child, and the composition is very fluid and uses the brushstrokes well to convey emotion."

Brian grinned. "Well, you're the expert when it comes to pretty pictures, Sunshine. That's why I'm the brains in the family and you're the artiste." He hastily added, "Just kidding," as Justin glared at him over the 'brains and beauty' remark; Brian knew all too well how intelligent his lover was. One corner of his mouth quirked up as he added more sincerely, "Actually, I think it was very thoughtful of you to do that to help make her feel more at home; along with all the redecorating of the room. But then I wouldn't expect any less from you," he told him, the look on his face telling Justin instantly how much he loved him.

Justin flushed then at the compliment, unable to stop himself from beaming over his praise. "Thanks." Brian nodded as his husband frowned, looking over at the doorway and suddenly realizing how quiet it was in the house. "I wonder where Alex is? She's had more than enough time to put what little clothes away that she brought with her. Which reminds me, Brian; we probably need to take her shopping for some more clothes, as well as some decorative touches for her room."

"We? I don't think so, Sunshine. You're much better at that sort of thing. I'll be there in spirit, though - with my credit card," he quipped.

Justin rolled his eyes. "I can use my own, thank you very much," he reminded him as Brian smirked. They had long ago passed the point where he had to rely on Brian's money for anything. "But I'm still a little worried that she hasn't come down yet. You think she's sulking still about having to do chores around the house, or about school? I thought we had more or less settled those issues."

Brian shrugged, his arm sliding around Justin's shoulders. "Who knows with that kid?"

"Well, maybe we'd better go check," Justin decided as he rose to his feet and turned to look expectantly at his husband.

Brian sighed as he grasped the hand that was being extended down toward him. "I'm almost afraid to...but okay. You might need backup, anyway."

* * *

"Alex?" Justin called out softly as they neared her room at the end of the hallway a few minutes later. He furrowed his brow when he didn't hear any response, glancing over at Brian worriedly.

Both men stopped, however, as they reached the room and poked their heads inside, observing Alex lying face down on the bed, sound asleep. They could tell by the regular rise and fall of her body that she was in a deep slumber and in no discomfort as they walked up to her, both of them thinking how small her slender frame looked in the larger-sized bed.

Brian peered down at her, unable to stop the feeling of sympathy - and even the need for protection - that swept through him as Justin silently walked over to the nearby overstuffed chair and retrieved a sage-green, soft acrylic throw from the back of it. Returning to his husband's side he gingerly placed it over the child from the shoulders down as Brian reached over and grabbed the omnipresent, stuffed teddy bear from the night stand that Alex seemed to have latched onto in her prior visits to them. Placing it near the folded arm she was using as a partial pillow against her cheek, the two of them stared down at her for a few more seconds before Brian grasped his husband's hand and led him back out into the hallway.

They both waited until they were near the other end before they spoke, both mutually deciding not to risk disturbing her. "Well, now you know why she didn't come down," Brian told him quietly as they stood near the staircase.

Justin nodded. "Yeah. I guess everything today has been pretty overwhelming for her." He paused before adding, "She looked so small in there, Brian. I think we _both_ sometimes forget just how young she really is, despite what she had been through. And how a lot of her 'tough talk' is just that: talk."

"I suppose," Brian conceded as he rubbed the back of his neck thoughtfully. He shook his head. "You know, it's still not going to be easy with her. And we might as well kiss our fucking privacy - or should I say, privacy fucking - away for the time being."

Justin turned to face Brian as he slid his arms around his waist, Brian's arms replicating the same action. He smiled. "I know," he told him wistfully. "But at least it's not right next to our bedroom. And we have a deadbolt on our door, too. And don't forget good insulation."

Brian grinned in amusement over Justin's latest PSA. "Thank the fuck for that at least."

Justin's arms slid up Brian's back until he could link them behind his neck. Alex wasn't a baby by any means, maturity-wise OR in chronological age. But she needed help nonetheless. Help...and the ability to learn that the world wasn't always a callous, cruel place set on defeating her. "By the way...we happen to have some privacy right now," he pointed out meaningfully as he pulled Brian closer so they were practically fused to each other.

Brian smirked. "I like the way you think, Sunshine. I suggest we take advantage of it - so I can take advantage of _you_."

Justin grinned as they kissed deeply, hungrily, as if they were dying of thirst, before, hand-in-hand, they walked toward their master bedroom, at least mollified that their first day with Alex hadn't been a total disaster.

_One day down...check. _


	40. Mundane Things are the Most Revealing

_Thanksgiving is approaching, representing time for the extended family to be together. Alex's tutor reveals some surprises about her, while Brian and Justin continue to navigate the treacherous waters of being foster parents._

* * *

_Three Weeks Later - Day before Thanksgiving_

"Alex! Don't make me come up there!" Justin warned in exasperation as he called out to her from the bottom of the steps. "'Mrs. McCluskey will be here in ten minutes!" He turned and scowled over at Brian who was standing nearby with his briefcase in one hand and his keys in the other like a prisoner about to make his escape. "I'm glad you find this so humorous, Brian. It's _easy_ to be so amused when you're not the one having to make sure she keeps her tutoring appointment."

"No," Brian admitted with a grin. "But you have to admit it's ironic. I never thought I would see the day when YOU would be in charge of waking someone else up..._Sunshine_." He smirked at his husband, earning a glare back in return.

Justin knew exactly what he was referring to; despite being better at rising earlier now, he still needed a little nudge occasionally to awaken on time. Of course, Brian was normally his favorite type of wake-up alarm; he much preferred a nice morning blow job to the alternative of hearing a grating beeping noise clanging from his nightstand clock. "Brian, you're not helping here," he protested as his husband walked over to him.

He pecked Justin on the nose. "I know you can handle it...Dad."

"Don't _call_ me that!" his husband protested. "I don't feel very fatherly at the moment; in fact, if that girl doesn't get down here in the next five minutes, I might have to resort to patricide." He glanced upstairs and huffed heavily in irritation. Why had he thought this would be a good idea? "Alex! Come _on_!"

"Okay, okay!" he finally heard her yell. "I'm coming! Sheesh!"

Justin sighed as Brian smiled over at him sympathetically. "I have to go," he told him. "I have that appointment in an hour with Getco Electronics."

"How convenient for you."

Brian grinned. "Keep on her, Sunshine. We know now just how smart a little fucker she is. But _you're _smarter." The recent assessment performed by the examiner appointed by Children's Services had validated what both of them already suspected: while Alex was approximately a year behind in her schooling readiness, she also possessed a higher-than-average I.Q., so the assessor had recommended some intensive tutoring during the next several months in order to prepare her to be mainstreamed into the local public school system come next fall. The two of them had immediately obtained one of the top-notch educators from a list of tutors supplied to them by the agency, and for the past couple of weeks Mrs. McCluskey had been coming to Britin to work one-on-one with a rather irascible Alex. Still, the woman had the patience of a saint, and seemed to be slowly breaking down some of the barriers Alex had constructed around her, finding areas that particularly interested her, such as art, wildlife, and photography, and including them in her lesson plans. She had been using those interests in her reading and history modules, for example, to keep Alex motivated and the girl had been making admirable progress - at least according to the tutor. Alex was still rather closed off when it came to discussing her tutoring with both men for some reason.

Justin nodded. "I know...I just hope I don't kill her first." Brian smiled over at him before sliding his arms around his husband for a decent kiss this time, taking several seconds to let him know how much he loved and appreciated what he was doing. He knew by the very nature of their jobs that Justin would wind up having to oversee most of Alex's activities during the day, and he had suspected that it would not be easy. But if anyone was up to the challenge, he knew that it would be Justin.

"Well, try to use that as a last resort," he murmured as they finally broke off their kiss. "Call or text me if you need me, okay?" He gave Justin one, last quick kiss before turning to go. "I'll be home early to play warden this afternoon."

Justin sighed as he nodded. As the door closed behind him a few seconds later, he turned to observe Alex at last shuffling down the steps, dressed in her typical attire of a hoodie - light gray, this time - and a pair of her worn but well-loved jeans, along with her scruffy sneakers. At least her short hair was combed, and the clothes were clean. He had purchased a few pieces of simple clothing for her before she came to stay with them, but for some reason she usually chose to stick to the clothing she had brought with her. He wasn't quite sure why, but he suspected it was connected to her feelings of insecurity. They had been honest with her about this being a temporary arrangement from the start. Perhaps, then, she felt it wasn't prudent to latch onto anything of permanence. That suspicion was what helped him to bite back any scathing response to her chronic tardiness now as she walked down to meet him at the bottom of the steps.

"Want something quick for breakfast before she gets here?" he asked her instead. "Maybe some frozen waffles or cereal? You'll perform better without being on..."

"...an empty stomach," she completed with a roll of her eyes. "You realize we go through this same speech almost every day, right?"

"And that is because...?"

She smirked at him. "Because I have such a wide variety of taste in breakfast foods?"

Justin sighed. "You know why. Because you can't get out of bed on time, that's why." He paused. "So going forward, your choice. If you're not out of bed and down here at least 20 minutes early, your selection of breakfast choices will be vastly diminished to either fruit and yogurt or an instant breakfast drink."

Alex glared at him. "I _hate _yogurt! And those breakfast drinks taste like chalk."

Justin smiled. "I know." His grin grew wider as she opened her mouth in disgust. _Well, 'chalk' one up for me_, he couldn't help thinking. "Well, I guess you'll just have to get down her earlier, then," he told her as he turned around and headed toward the kitchen. "Now you'd better hurry up, or you won't have time for waffles OR cereal today."

Hearing Alex huff in protest behind him, he finally heard her shuffle down the hallway behind him in resignation. It was a minor victory - but a victory nonetheless.

* * *

_Later that Afternoon..._

"All done for the day?" Justin asked the older tutor. Mrs. McCluskey had retired at 60 from one of the local school systems, and had spent about two months in retirement before deciding she was not fit to sit around and knit or attend bridge clubs. She missed interacting with the children and wanted to find a worthwhile way to utilize her educational skills, so she had decided to volunteer with the local Children's Protective Services agency to help tutor children in the foster system. She had come highly recommended by Alex's caseworker, and Justin had taken an instant liking to her. She seemed to possess just the right combination of sternness and compassion that Alex needed, and after an initial test period, Alex had quickly discovered that trying to bullshit her would not work. A gradual acceptance of their roles had developed to the point where teacher and student now had a good rapport with each other, so much so that Justin made it a point to speak with her at the end of each tutoring period to get a quick recap of the day's events.

Mrs. McCluskey nodded as Justin handed her coat to her and helped her put it on. "Thanks," she told him. She liked Justin. He looked fairly young to have taken on such an important role in Alex's life, but she always felt she was a good judge of character, and this man had impressed her immediately with his intelligence, self-assuredness, and interest in Alex's well-being. Too often, it was sadly the case that some foster parents mainly took on their responsibilities with dollar signs in their eyes (as if they would ever really get rich by doing it, but they still seemed to think so), instead of having the child's needs at heart. With Justin, however - and with his husband, who she had only met briefly so far - they both appeared to be genuinely concerned that Alex be provided with not only a good home, but a stable education while she was in their protection.

"Everything go okay today?" Justin asked politely. Alex had rushed out the door the minute their tutoring session was done to head down to the pond. Like Gus - who had developed a love of ice skating - she, too, enjoyed the same outdoor sport. Justin had found out about it after Mrs. McCluskey had mentioned it to him the other day, and he had used a new pair of ice skates as leverage to help ensure that Alex continued to do her chores; that and the stipulation that she continue to keep up with her homework each day. The new skates, along with the promise of letting her paint up in his studio, was enough to keep her motivated and on track so far.

"Fine," she assured him. "She's a very intelligent little girl." She smiled. "Perhaps even in the gifted category."

"Gifted?"

She nodded. "I'm beginning to think so. She does have a higher-than-average I.Q., as you know, and she tends to get easily distracted and even bored if she isn't constantly challenged. A lot of times that can certainly indicate someone who needs more of an accelerated curriculum."

Justin frowned. "But everyone we've spoken with has indicated she needs remedial tutoring in order just to be streamlined into public school next year. I mean, that's basically the reason why you're here, isn't it?"

"Initially," she told him. "But I have a feeling at the rate Alex is progressing, she may surpass that goal before the year is out - and then some."

Justin's eyes widened; he and Brian had never considered that possibility. "Really?

She nodded with a smile. "Yes. I was in education long enough to develop an instinct for that sort of thing, and I just have a feeling about her. When she is kept busy - and has to stretch her knowledge and her potential - that is when she is the most engaged with her studies."

Justin nodded in surprise. "Is...Is there something that Brian and I can do to assist her with that when you're not here?" With the four-day Thanksgiving holiday coming up tomorrow, Justin felt it was important to keep their foster child on her toes, even when she wasn't being formally tutored.

"Just keep her involved with whatever you do," she told him. "That doesn't mean not to give her any down time. Let her be the young girl that she is. She will be growing up soon enough. Let her have some fun. But keep her stimulated by encouraging her to analyze things and use her critical thinking skills to express her opinions."

Justin gave her a soft laugh. "I don't think that will be an issue. Being outspoken is not her problem." He paused. "Although, Brian and I know a lot of it is just an act; we've seen evidence of that. I can only imagine what she must have gone through with her parents and then afterward, living on the street."

Mrs. McCluskey nodded. "I know. I've tried to delve into that a little when I can bring the subject up in the course of our instruction. And sometimes I get a little information out of her. But just as suddenly, she clams right back up again when she realizes she's letting me in." She sighed. "I have seen a lot over the years in the classroom, Mr. Taylor."

"Please...call me Justin..."

The older woman nodded. "And I'm Marian."

Justin smiled with a nod; he felt comfortable enough by now to be using her first name, even though she was quite a bit older, although his upbringing would never presume to do that without her approval. "Marian."

She continued, her smile fading just a bit as she told him, "Like I said, I used to teach in mainly inner-city schools, and I've seen it all: poverty, drug and alcohol abuse, neglect...things that would make your skin crawl." She shuddered. "And from reading some of the reports on Alex, I know she must have experienced a great deal of emotional distress over the years. But she also has this resiliency in her..."

Justin nodded, glancing toward the back of the house down the hallway to make sure Alex wasn't lurking somewhere nearby. "I agree." He smiled. "In a way, she reminds me of Brian, and I think he realizes that."

"Your husband?"

"Yes." He moved to explain. "For a long time, Brian was afraid to let anyone know how he felt about them. He tended to close himself up into a shell - or drink himself into a drug-infused stupor," he confided as his companion's eyes widened in astonishment. "That was a long time ago," he hastened to explain as she nodded. "He had a very difficult childhood as well; so I think he sees a lot of himself in her. Plus, I'm not sure you are aware of this, but Brian was adopted, also."

Her mouth hung open slightly. "No, I didn't know that."

"Neither did he. Not until recently," Justin revealed. In a way, it seemed like ages ago, instead of several months. "His mother died about a year ago, and never told him. He found out about it when I discovered a document in his mother's things, and we did some investigation."

"Oh, that's right!" she said as she slapped her forehead with her right hand. "I remember now. His father is going to be our governor! I recall him talking about that." She smiled. "Congratulations, by the way. That must be very exciting, being related to him."

Justin grinned ruefully. "Well, exciting among other things. Let's just say it's been a very tumultuous year in a lot of respects."

She nodded as she turned slightly to go. "Well, I'd best be going," she explained. "I'm having a big group of my family over tomorrow for Thanksgiving, and have to go home and get ready. It's exhausting," she added, "but I love having all the family together." Justin nodded. "What about you?"

Justin smiled. "Same on both counts. Brian kids me about being the housewife in the family," he told her with a shake of his head. "He knows I hate that word, but I guess to be honest he has a point. I do like to cook - and I love having all the family together, too." He leaned in closer to her. "Don't tell HIM this, but he likes it, too; at least that last part." He grinned as she nodded back at him, making a zipping motion across her lips.

"Your secret's safe with me," Marian told her. "Have a great weekend, and I'll see you and Alex on Monday."

Justin nodded as he opened the door to let her out, his mind already swirling with details about what needed to be done before tomorrow. To add to the normal, hectic mix that holidays normally brought, too, this would be the first time that Alex would be here at Britin with all their friends and family at once. As he turned around to head toward the kitchen, he only hoped that all would go well tomorrow.

* * *

_Next Morning...Thanksgiving Day, Tony & Fin's Home - Harrisburg_

"Mmm..." Tony moved languorously in his half-awake state, a lazy smile breaking out on his face as he felt a pair of warm, wet lips latching themselves onto his quickly-burgeoning cock. His eyes still closed, he reached down to feather some of Fin's fine hair between his hands as he moaned softly. "Fin...God..." It wasn't the most unexpected way to be awakened in the morning - in fact, this was a fairly common occurrence between them - but lately it hadn't been possible most mornings due to their work schedules. Today, however, with it being a holiday, they at last had the chance to indulge themselves. "You...you can govern me that way any day," he gasped out, his body squirming as Fin quickened his pace, one hand gripping the base of his cock while the one anchored itself on his tummy. His lover's lips vibrated against his skin as Fin laughed in reaction to what he had just said, making his body tingle even more.

"Fin..." What this man could still do to him, even after all these years...He almost felt sorry for those men who felt being with the same partner for a long time made their sexual encounters bland and predictable. With this man, it was anything but.

It only took a few more minutes before Tony's body burst into flames of desire as he erupted down Fin's throat. Panting furiously, Fin slowly slid up his sweaty body until their faces were inches from each other, smiling down at him before they kissed slowly and tenderly.

"Shit, Fin..."

Fin smirked as he arched one eyebrow. "I _love_ Thanksgiving," he murmured to him huskily, his hands slowly sliding up and down Tony's upper arms and shoulders. "It's such a _meaty_ holiday." He waggled his eyebrows at Tony, who promptly giggled and blushed, just like he knew he would. It was one of the things he loved about his partner.

The two of them rolled onto their sides to face each other as Tony reached down between their bodies to grip Fin's hard cock and give it a firm squeeze. "Yeah, it is," he agreed with a twinkle in his eye as Fin moaned under his breath in reaction to his touch. He began to stroke the silky, hot flesh in an up-and-down motion, hearing Fin's breathing accelerating. His free hand slowly drew circles on Fin's chest, traveling upward to the other man's left nipple as he used the pad of his thumb to swirl it around the left, pebbled nub and then the right. He stared into his partner's eyes as he continued to stroke him, seeing them change from their normal steel-blue to a darker shade of arousal.

"Tony..."

Tony slowly rubbed Fin's lips with his fingers as his mouth parted, closing his eyes in rapture as his partner began to increase his speed. "Want...I..." God, any other time he had no problems expressing himself verbally, whether it was in front of one person or a group of thousands. With this man, however, all he had to do was touch him, speak to him, and he was rendered speechless.

Tony smiled as he released his grip on his partner's cock and slowly slid down to replace his hand with his lips, instinctively knowing what Fin desired. He heard Fin sigh in contentment as he began to suck on the tip before taking more of his length inside. He could feel Fin fisting the hair at the top of his head as he set to work, bracing himself with his hands on the sinewy thighs as he increased the suction and tempo.

Soon, he felt his partner's body tensing with impending climax, just before Fin arched slightly off the bed and came with a loud, vocal cry, spewing his seed down his throat as he relaxed his muscles. Swallowing every drop, Tony lifted his head to stare up into his partner's flushed face and darkened, dilated eyes before he snaked himself back up to face him. He placed a soft kiss on the warm lips before he pulled back to stare into his lover's eyes. "I've missed this," he whispered to Fin. "It's been way too long."

Fin pulled him into his arms, wrapping his hands around the sweaty back of the younger man. "Yeah," he whispered back as he nuzzled his cheek with his own. "Me, too." They separated slightly, still lying on their sides, as Fin tenderly pushed some rebellious hair back from Tony's eyes. He sighed, knowing they would have to get dressed and get ready soon. "I wish in a way we could just stay here in bed all day," he confessed as he played with Tony's hair, twisting some of the hairs around his long fingers.

Tony smiled softly at him. "Me, too," he admitted. He stroked the slightly-stubbled skin of Fin's jaw before adding, "But you know we can't, not today. We have to be at Britin in two hours."

Fin nodded. "Well, I guess we'll just have to save time by showering together, then," he suggested with a leering grin. "As the newest leader of the State of Pennsylvania, I feel it's incumbent upon me to set a good example when it comes to water conservation," he told Tony solemnly.

Tony grinned back at him. "Very wise decision, Mr. Governor-Elect." His smile faded a little then; an expression that was instantly noticed by the other man.

"What is it, Tony?" Fin softly pressed. "Huh?"

"Nothing."

"Tony...What did I tell you about that? Don't close up on me. You DO want to go out to Brian and Justin's for Thanksgiving today, don't you? If not, just say the word, and we can stay here..."

Tony quickly shook his head. "You know I do..."

"Then what?" he murmured.

"Nothing but the same old insecurities," his partner acknowledged after a brief hesitation. "This...what we have...what we've worked so hard to achieve. You know I am so damn proud of you, Fin, and I so happy that you are finally fulfilling one of the dreams you have worked so hard to accomplish..." His voice trailed off as he averted his eyes.

"...but you're afraid that's all about to change," he completed his partner's sentence. Tony nodded as Fin slowly caressed his cheek and then gripped his partner's chin to force him to meet his gaze. "Tony, what can I do or say to convince you, love? I thought we had cleared this all up, Counselor," he added just a little sternly. And he meant it, too; as much as he craved the influence that such a high position would bring him - and the good he could do in that position - it wouldn't mean a damn thing without his partner by his side, his soul mate.

Tony nodded with a wistful smile; a smile that did not quite reach his eyes, however, at least in Fin's estimation. "I don't know what it is, Fin. But around you, I seem to lose all sense of confidence sometimes," he confessed quietly.

Fin quirked one side of his mouth up. "Funny...You tend to render me speechless, too, Counselor," he teased.

"I didn't say THAT," Tony maintained as Fin grinned at him, swooping in to peck him on the nose. He smiled back at him, more of his trademark smile as he added, "But I'm glad I can still do that to you."

"Always, Mr. Cassinelli," Fin murmured. "Always have and always will." Tony's face warmed as Fin rose up from his position on the mattress and pulled slightly on his partner's hand. "Now what do you say we take advantage of this once-in-a-lifetime break from our impossible schedules and indulge in a nice, leisurely shower?"

Tony smiled. "That sounds heavenly." Grasping his partner's hand in his, he allowed himself to be pulled toward their luxurious spa bathroom, thoughts of how their lives were about to dramatically change temporarily pushed aside.

* * *

_Early Afternoon - Britin_

"This is WORSE than latrine duty," Alex declared from her place at one of the kitchen counter stools. She scowled at the mountain of potatoes lying in a plain, white bowl in front of her. "I hate potatoes."

"That's funny," Justin observed dryly as he wiped his hands on a dish towel after having cut up several vegetables for snacking. "You never seem to have a problem eating your baked potato when I make them for dinner."

"That's different," Alex protested as she slowly scraped the peeler against the rough skin of the potato. At this rate, she estimated it would take next year before she was done. "I was eating them then, not peeling them for potato salad." She sighed heavily. "Isn't there a faster way?"

"Sorry," was the response. "Only way to get it done." Justin grinned at the exasperated expression on Alex's face. "Don't tell me you don't like potato salad?"

He frowned as she mumbled something incoherently. "Excuse me? I didn't catch that."

Alex took a deep breath. "I said...I've never had it before." Alex averted her gaze uncomfortably, suddenly feeling like it was downright un-American not to have eaten it.

"You haven't?" She shook her head as he gaped at her, astounded by all the simple things she had never experienced in her young life - things that he took for granted. He stared over at her hunched-over body as he replied softly, "Well, you will today; it's one of my most-requested side dishes, even if it IS a little odd for Thanksgiving. It's Gus's favorite dish, so I always make him some for the holidays." He smiled at her sympathetically as he slid open the nearby utensil drawer and withdrew another potato peeler. "Why don't I help you with KP duty, so we can get it done faster?" He knew that Debbie was on her way out, and would be an additional, much-needed pair of experienced hands. That would be a big help in getting the meal prepared and cooked. Something told him, also, that his young assistant cook could use a little one-on-one time in the interim.

"KP Duty? Why does everything have to have the word 'duty' attached to it?" Alex groused as Justin sat down beside her.

He grinned. "It means kitchen police or patrol. When used in the military, it means personnel assigned to perform kitchen tasks on the base...like peeling potatoes."

Alex snorted, always amazed by the wealth of seemingly useless information this man always possessed. "What are you? A walking encyclopedia or something?"

Both of them turned at the sound of Brian snickering nearby. "No use even asking him about it," he told Alex as he walked up and slid his arms around his husband from behind before kissing him on the side of the neck. "I've decided it's inbred in him."

Justin rolled his eyes but grinned at his husband as Alex watched them curiously, silently soaking in every detail about them. No matter how unsure she might be of her situation presently, one thing was abundantly clear to her: these two men loved each other and knew each other intimately, backward and forward. She actually envied them that; her parents, even when they had not been a couple of boozed-up crack heads, had never been this affectionate with each other. For just a brief moment, she thought about what it might be like to live permanently in such an environment - with people who loved and cared for each other and supported each other - only to quickly tamp it back down. She was reminded once more that she was merely a temporary visitor here; nothing more, nothing less.

"I can't help it," he maintained. He smacked Brian's hand as he reached down to grab a carrot stick from the vegetable tray lying nearby, each type separated by type and color, and laid out like artwork. "Stop that! You'll mess up the aesthetics."

"Oh, my God; we can't have that," Brian deadpanned as he munched on the crisp piece of vegetable and grinned over at his exasperated husband. He looked around the kitchen, observing dishes scattered everywhere, and pots and pans soaking in the sink. Why did he feel like this was the relative calm before the storm known as their family and friends? But he supposed he wouldn't have it any other way, if he were honest with himself. He was especially looking forward to seeing his Sonny Boy again. "What time is dinner, Sunshine?"

"Seven," Justin told him as he reached out to grab Brian's wrist, just before he could latch onto another carrot stick; his partner rolled his tongue into his cheek like a petulant little boy. "Go make yourself a sandwich," he ordered him. "There's lunchmeat in the fridge. But leave my vegetables alone!"

Alex couldn't help bursting out laughing then as Brian responded with a decided pout. "You two are like two little kids who don't get their way! How _long _have you been together?"

"Too long!" both replied in perfect unison as she giggled.

The two men couldn't help smiling at that - Alex's reaction being contagious - as Justin pulled his husband down by the wrist to give him a quick kiss on the lips. "Now behave yourself - _little boy_ - and go find something to do to stay out of trouble until our company comes. How about setting up the trains for Gus?" Gus loved his trains; had adored them ever since he was a couple of years old, and he and his father had played with a set together on the Munchers' living room floor. Of course, now Gus had a much more intricate set that Brian had purchased for him (a gift from last Christmas), and he had set it up downstairs in their expansive rec room. Most of the terrain and myriad variety of pieces - the townspeople, the mountains, the trees, railroad trestles, signs, and buildings - remained erected all year long. But Brian normally removed the three locomotives and train cars for storage in between visits to make sure they remained in top working condition. Occasionally, however, when he didn't realize Justin was peeking, he would bring them out to play with them himself. Brian was occasionally every bit a little boy as his son was when it came to his trains.

He grinned as a smile broke out on Brian's face. "Good idea, Sunshine. You happy homemakers have a good time getting your hands dirty with flour - or turkey giblets - or green Jell-O with marshmallows - or whatever shit is in that bowl," he told them with a frown as he stole a glance into a nearby container, but couldn't for the life of him identify the contents. "I'll be downstairs doing the _manly_ work."

Justin snorted, exchanged a glance with an amused Alex, as his husband turned and headed down the hall toward the door leading downstairs.

Alex peered over at him thoughtfully. "You got rid of him on purpose."

"Of course I did!" He readily verified. "Trust me," he told her as he picked up the potato peeler and got to work on a large Russet. "You do not want Brian around the kitchen on days like this. Fifteen minutes, and everything would be a disaster. If it doesn't involve a store-bought mix of some kind, he's a lost cause. Believe me, it's for the best...and he knows it."

Alex actually smiled in amusement then, an expression Justin had rarely seen, as she nodded, silently turning to pick up the next potato to peel it.

* * *

_Later that Afternoon..._

The potato salad prepared and chilling in the refrigerator, Alex slid three frozen pumpkin pies into the commercial-size oven to bake them so they would cool before they were eaten later. The impressive dining room table - which sat a total of twenty - was already set with place settings, and the large turkey was basting inside the other oven, now set on low so it would stay juicy and succulent until the time dinner was served.

As Justin surveyed the kitchen, he nodded in satisfaction. Everything that could be prepared ahead of time was done, and now it was merely a case of heating up the appropriate side dishes when dinner time approached, and tossing the salad together. For now, though, he and his helper deserved a much-needed reprieve.

He smiled as Alex closed the oven door and turned around to face him. She had proven to be quite helpful the past few hours in the kitchen. "I think everything's as ready as it can be for now," he told her with a smile. "You really came in handy this morning, Alex; thank you."

Alex blushed in spite of herself, not accustomed to being praised. "Just doing what I'm expected to do," she mumbled uncomfortably as she crossed her arms over her chest and bit her lip. Her normal, 'you-can't-touch-me' façade was firmly back in place moments later as she asked, "Can I be released from parole now?"

Justin sighed softly. _One step forward, two steps back. _But just like with Brian, he could see right through her bullshit, and he could observe small chinks forming in her protective, emotional armor. He and Brian would just have to continue to chip away at it until the real Alex hopefully emerged. He smiled at her. "Yes, Inmate #62022, you are herewith released from prison duty until mess time."

"Mess time?" she replied with a frown before shaking her head. "Never mind, I don't want to know. My head will explode if you spout off any more trivia."

Justin grinned. "I'll try to abstain for a while," he assured her. He paused for a moment. Perhaps there was a way to include her in his own favorite activity for relaxation. Well, one that didn't involve Brian, anyway. "Actually, I'm about to head upstairs to work on one of my paintings. Why don't you join me?"

Alex stood frozen in her place. She had often heard Justin speak about his studio upstairs in the refurbished attic, and knew by now that he was quite an accomplished artist, but she had never actually seen the studio yet, although he had promised sometime to show it to her. "You mean...watch you paint?" Her heart dropped as he shook his head negatively, only to have it soar again when he explained.

"No," he told her with a smile. "I remember how talented you were when you drew that sketch of your mother. I'd like to see more of what you can do. I'd like you to draw or paint something for me. I'll let you decide which one. Would you?"

Alex's eyes grew wide. "You really mean that?" she pressed, needing to make sure she was understanding him right.

Justin smiled. "Yes, of, course," he told her as he turned off the coffeemaker nearby. "Come on," he added. "This can all wait for a while. And there won't be a lot of time for me to work upstairs later...not with all our company coming. So let's take advantage of it, okay? I'll just let Brian know where we'll be in case he needs me for anything." Actually, they had a rather sophisticated intercom system set up in the house - Brian had insisted on installing one, along with a security system, once he and Justin had moved here - so it wasn't necessary. Besides, it wasn't like his husband wouldn't automatically know where he was, anyway; it was normal for him to be working in his attic during the day, so that was the first place Brian would look for him. But he wanted Alex to have a little time to acclimate herself to the space upstairs, and he was slowly learning that she best operated when a big deal wasn't made out of something. "You go on up to my studio, and I'll be right there. Better find some other clothes to slip on, too," he advised her, "ones that you don't mind getting paint splatters on, if you're going to be using any acrylics."

She nodded, furiously trying not to reveal how hard her heart was pounding in excited anticipation, before she turned and, unable to hide her eagerness, rushed down the hallway and practically ran up the steps. Justin chuckled as he walked at a slower pace down the hallway, heading toward Brian's study where he was no doubt working on a project of Kinnetik's. Sure enough, as he poked his head in the door, there was his husband, hunched over at his desk, peering intently at his laptop. Several advertising storyboards were lying haphazardly next to the computer as he scowled in displeasure at the screen.

He was so involved with what he was working on that he didn't even hear Justin softly padding into the room. "What are you doing, Brian?" Justin asked him in a soft, accusatory manner as Brian jumped slightly, startled.

"You're a sneaky little shit," he muttered as he guiltily closed the laptop.

Justin smirked as he walked over and sat down in Brian's lap; his husband's arms slid around his waist to hold him in place as he explained, "I could have sworn someone promised not to work today."

Brian feigned insult as he told him, "That would be like cutting off my own hand, Sunshine. A boy without work is a dull boy - and a poor one, too."

Justin reached over to tug on the back of Brian's hair with his left hand; his other hand coming to rest on Brian's shoulder. "Well, you keep working today, and I may just have to cut something _else_ off," he warned, smiling when his husband's eyes widened in disbelief.

"A body part, or an activity?" he quipped, one side of his mouth lifting playfully as his hands slowly roamed across Justin's lower back.

Justin laughed. "Don't worry; I value that particular body part way too much to ever cause it any harm." He leaned down to briefly kiss Brian on the lips as he explained, "I was just coming in to let you know that Alex and I are done for now in the kitchen, so I'm heading up to the studio to join her."

"You think that's wise to leave her up there by herself?" he wisecracked. "You remember what she did to that hotel room before."

Justin laughed softly. "Brian, I don't think she's going to do anything destructive, and I don't think you feel that way, either." His expression turned more serious as he told him, "I think we both know she was acting out some aggression that day. I don't think she meant to really cause that much damage. We just need to find other outlets for her to vent her negative emotions, and I think painting is a perfect way for her to do that."

Brian grudgingly had to agree; he knew that Justin used his creativity to generate works that were reflective of his mood at the time, and what was transpiring in his life. He knew that his husband found it to be a very effective way to let go of his emotions, so there was good reason to think the same would apply to Alex, too. He nodded. "Maybe you're right," he agreed with a tender smile of his own. "Good thinking, Picasso."

Justin melted into his husband's arms as Brian pulled him closer. "I really want this to be a happy time for her, Brian," he whispered. "I want her to know that the entire world isn't against her." He pulled back to look into Brian's eyes. "I...I wish..." He sighed.

Brian frowned slightly in concern. "What?" he prodded gently as he continued to hold Justin on his lap.

"I feel sorry for her, Brian."

"Why? She has everything now that she could possibly need or want here, Justin. MORE than enough."

"Yes...except the thing she probably needs or wants the most."

"Okay, Sunshine, I'll bite." He rolled his lips under as he nuzzled Justin's neck and gave him a playful nip on his lower earlobe, hearing his husband's slight intake of breath as he pulled back to stare at him. "What in the world could we not be giving this girl that she doesn't already have?"

Justin paused for a moment before finally saying simply, "Permanence."

"Permanence."

Justin nodded.

"Sunshine, she's been here, what? Three, three-and-a-half weeks now? How can you - or I - or she - even know WHAT she wants or needs at this point? I thought we had talked about this before."

"I know," the blond replied fretfully. "And I agree. We don't know what we're even doing right now, much less how this is going to work out. I was just thinking that it might be nice for her to know she's not going to be pushed aside again before too long."

Brian's pupils shifted rapidly from side to side, something he always did when he was studying what Justin said so intently. "I thought you wanted a baby, Justin," he pointed out quietly, "...not some preteen brat to raise."

"I do...I did." He wasn't sure which one was right anymore. "But...when I look into her eyes, Brian; even when she's being obnoxious...It's all a front, I can tell. Surely _you _can, too. She needs someone to count on, someone she knows is going to be there for her."

"I guess," Brian grudgingly conceded.

"Brian, Mrs. McCluskey thinks she might belong in a gifted curriculum, once she catches up with her schoolwork."

Brian harrumphed. "Gifted? In _what_? Creating havoc? Painting graffiti art?"

Justin glared at him. "You know what. Brian, she's very smart, we both know that. The tutor thinks she gets easily bored, and that's why she acts up sometimes."

"Well...come to think of it, Mr. 1500 SAT, YOU were pretty obnoxious when we first met. Maybe she _has _something there..."

"Brian! Can you please just be serious for once?"

Brian sighed. "Okay, I got it. Maybe she's right." He sighed. "So we need to keep her mind occupied. What do you suggest?"

"Well, I want to try and get her more involved with art. I've seen it, Brian; she is a natural artist. She reminds me a lot of me when I was younger in the way she always seems to need to do something with her hands and how she tends to be so hyperactive."

"Is this the same kid we can't get out of bed in the mornings?" Brian pointed out.

Justin smiled. "I'm the same way," he explained. "But once I'm awake, you know what I'm like. I don't like to stop until I'm done for the day. She's the same way. She has this nervous type of energy. I think it'll do her some good - and build up her self-confidence - if I encourage her artistic side." He pecked Brian on the lips as he rose to his feet. "Speaking of which, I'd better go join her upstairs," he decided.

"Good idea," Brian agreed. "Make sure you do a full count of all your paint brushes when you get done, too. Just kidding," he added with a grin as Justin rolled his eyes in reaction. "Need me to do anything for later on while you're upstairs?"

Justin shook his head. "No, I think everything's well in hand for now. Besides, Debbie should be here within an hour or so - she's bringing Emmett with her. I'm sure she will be more than glad to supervise preparations while I'm upstairs with Alex."

Brian groaned. "I knew I shouldn't have misplaced my key to the study." The key that initially locked Brian's office was an old-fashioned skeleton key; both of them had decided to keep the charm of their home as much as possible, which included remodeling as little as necessary, with the exception of Justin's studio. They had long ago misplaced the key, however, which meant that Brian had no way of locking up his study. Fortunately, he did have a key to his desk. "There'll be no escaping her."

Justin grinned. "Call me when she gets here if it gets to be too much for you," he teased.

"Count on it," Brian muttered as he turned back to concentrate on his work project.

* * *

Chapter End Notes:

_This is only the first part of this update. Once again, I got too carried away with the length (big surprise there, right? Ha!), so I'm splitting it up so I can at least get this updated. The next part will be up soon. Thank you for continuing to read and for your patience. _


	41. Monkey See, Monkey Do

_Alex finds she has a new admirer. Emmett reveals some startling news during Thanksgiving. Father and son have a heart-to-heart about their significant others._

* * *

_One Hour Later...Justin's Studio_

Justin stole a glance over toward his left, where Alex was presently using his spare easel to complete a still life of a fruit basket that he had arranged spontaneously from some oranges, apples, and bananas that he kept here in the studio for when he became hungry, but didn't want to interrupt his work to head back downstairs. It had actually been Brian's idea; he knew how he tended to be extremely narrow-focused whenever he was caught up in one of his pieces to the point where he sometimes forgot to eat during the day. By keeping a basket of fruit handy, it provided Justin with needed nutrition and Brian with some peace of mind that he wasn't forgoing his meals.

He stopped what he was doing to silently observe his protégé; Alex's lips were pursed tightly together in concentration as she dipped her paintbrush into the well to snare some golden yellow acrylic paint before carefully gliding it onto the canvas with deliberate brushstrokes. For someone so young, she had a remarkable grasp of light and dimension in her painting, Justin decided, especially considering how untrained she was. The objects were slowly coming to life as if they were three-dimensional paintings merely by her use of shadow and color nuances.

He smiled as he softly walked closer to her; Alex was so focused on what she was doing, she didn't even realize he had stopped working on his own project. He could identify with that sort of fanaticism. "That is amazing," he told her with genuine sincerity. "You really have artistic talent, Alex."

Alex huffed. "It's just a bunch of fruit. How hard is it to paint a banana?"

"You'd be surprised," he told her honestly. "It's not the object you're replicating; it's how you portray it." She peered at him skeptically as he explained, "Just think of it as the difference between that drawing you did of your mother, and someone who draws a stick person. They both represent people; but only a true artist can make them come alive. People who are gifted artistically have the ability to do that."

Her eyes darted from the fruit and then back to the painting, still finding it hard to believe that she had done anything unusual. "It's just fruit," she repeated doubtfully.

"No," Justin told her softly. He placed his hand on her shoulder and squeezed it. "You have it, Alex. A gift. When you were painting just now, nothing else mattered. I'm the same way when I paint. You have the same intensity." He paused, thinking how small and fragile she appeared. "I'd like to help you develop it...if that's something that you want, too. Is it?"

"What good would it do? No one makes a living out of painting fruit."

He smiled. "You might be surprised," he told her with a smile. It can be done, even with Campbell Soup cans."

"You mean Warhol."

He looked at her with surprise. "You know who he is?"

She nodded.

"You like his work?"

She smiled shyly before nodding again.

Justin silently digested that bit of new information; it seems he was learning more and more about her every second. "Well, we'll have to make a point of visiting the Pittsburgh Museum of Contemporary Art, then," he told her with a smile. "They have several Warhols there." His smile diminished a little as he told her honestly, "You _are _right about one thing. Being successful financially as an artist can be just as difficult as breaking into show business for an actor. It can be very hard to make a sustainable living doing it. But I did find a way. It wasn't easy. It took years for my art to really get off the ground, and for me to be recognized. But it happened." He was proud of that fact, and he knew Brian was, too. But just how often _did_ it happen? Not nearly enough, he knew. "But you know what? Even if I hadn't found a way to live off my love of art, no matter what I wound up doing as a career, I would have still made time for it. If you don't fill your life with things and people that you are passionate about, your life can be pretty empty. And I think you might just feel the same way."

Alex stared at him for several seconds before nodding. "I like to recreate things that I see, and emotions that I feel." She swallowed the lump in her throat as she revealed, "And it's a way for me to remember people...people that aren't in my life anymore." Every time she and her parents had moved - normally due to being kicked out for nonpayment of their rent - any scrap of memories, any photographs (if they could afford to take any) were discarded along with the rest of their belongings. To this day, one of her biggest regrets was that she didn't have any photos of her parents - the parents she knew _before_ they had spiraled down into a black, drug-infused hole - or any recordings of their voices. She had always thought she would never forget what her mother or father's voice sounded like, back when they were loving and kind. She would have even settled for the sound of their voice in recent times, even when they had been angry with her or drunk or high. But now she couldn't recall any of that, just distant wisps or shadows of their tone of voice in her mind when they spoke.

Justin's eyes misted over as the girl spoke, her face tinged with pain. Once more, he realized that for all the hell he had been through in his life, it paled next to what this girl must have endured at her young age. He swallowed hard to compose himself before he told her, "That's the same way I feel when I paint, too. It's...It's almost as if this energy, this passion, is flowing through my body and erupting out of my hands. It's...almost as if I'm unable to stop from doing it, like this uncontrollable urge to record what I'm seeing or doing...kind of like a human camera, I guess."

Alex stared at him in astonishment. "That's...that's how I feel, too," she confessed in awe. Her face fell in embarrassment. "Only I didn't have much of a way to draw anything down on paper. We...we couldn't afford that sort of thing. So I would use a stick and some dirt out in the backyard to draw with. Or...or napkins we got from the food court at the mall. Or newspapers that were thrown away in the dumpster." _Much like the food I ate_, she couldn't help thinking. Even when she wasn't on her own, if her hunger gnawed at her stomach enough, she would try and scrounge whatever she could - wherever she could - just to survive.

_Oh, my God_. Justin's heart dropped over what she was telling him. What ELSE had she had to find in the garbage? He shuddered at the image in his head. Just when he thought how horrendous his own treatment at the hands of Chris Hobbs and his own father had been, he realized things could always have been worse. He admired this troubled, enigmatic girl. He was beginning to understand a whole lot more about her now. He forced a smile on his face to hide his heartache as he told her, "You were very creative to do that. Some of the most important artists of our time have had to improvise, too, so you're in good company."

Her face lit up. "Really?"

Justin smiled with a nod. "Yes, really."

His phone buzzed then, signaling an incoming text as he reached inside his pocket to fish out his cellphone. His smile became larger as he told Alex, "Debbie and Gus are just about here; they're riding out with Emmett, a friend of mine. Come on, let's get all this cleaned up and go downstairs; I'll introduce you to Brian's son when he gets here. He's a great kid."

She nodded, feeling a little hesitant, before she followed Justin over to the sink built into a long countertop against the wall to start cleaning up their painting supplies, wondering why she felt nervous about meeting this child that Brian spoke of constantly when she was around. It was obvious how much he loved him - and Justin, too. Why did that bother her so much, though?

"Alex? Everything okay?"

Not realizing she had been daydreaming, Alex hurriedly wiped off her hands before turning toward him. "Yeah. Everything's fine," she told him, her mask back in place as she walked over to join him.

Frowning slightly, Justin nodded, knowing there was something going on, but unable to put his finger on it. He sighed. It was going to take some time to figure this child out. "After you," he told her with a reassuring smile as she shuffled down the steps in front of him. "You go clean up, and I'll meet you downstairs."

"Great," she muttered as they reached the lower floor. "Now that Debbie's on her way here, she'll probably put ME to work, too."

Justin chuckled. "No doubt about it; I know how she is," he told her as she looked at him in confusion. "I used to work at the diner, too, remember?"

She nodded, feeling Justin place a hand on her shoulder. "Do I have to get dressed up for this?"

"No," he told her to her relief. "But at least take a quick shower so you can scrub off your multi-colored look. You look like an impressionist's version of a traffic light." He laughed as she scowled at him, her face smudged with shades of yellow, green, and red. "Go on, some hot water won't kill you."

With a heavy huff of irritation, Alex trudged down the hallway toward her room; Justin chuckled softly over her reaction before he headed in the other direction to clean up as well.

* * *

Alex winced as she walked down the steps about fifteen minutes later, hearing a high-pitched squeal erupt from the area of the kitchen, followed by the rapid sound of footsteps pounding down the hallway. A young, brown-haired boy - the miniature spitting image of Brian - came to an abrupt stop in front of her as his sneakered feet slid on the smooth, polished, hardwood floor.

Gus peered up at her curiously. "Who are _you_?" he asked her, his nose crinkled in confusion.

"Excuse me?" She retorted with a roll of her eyes. "I'm Alex. Who are _you_?" Not that she didn't know already; the kid was just being a little obnoxious in her opinion.

"I'm Gus," he announced proudly as he gazed up at her with wide, brown eyes.

"Didn't your father ever tell you it's not polite to stare at people?" she asked as she peered down at him.

Gus shook his head innocently. He didn't seem to mind her scrutiny of him as he changed the subject. "Are you a boy or a girl?"

Alex's mouth hung open as Debbie interrupted them from behind. "_There_ you are!" she screeched from a few feet away, wiping her flour-laden hands on her half-apron. She was wearing a bright orange shirt with the words, "_Some of my Best Friends are Turkeys," _emblazoned on it as she smacked her gum against the inside of her mouth. "And look who _you_ found, Gus? Alex!"

Gus continued to study the young stranger. "Is he a boy or a girl?" He repeated innocently as he looked over at Debbie this time for an answer.

Debbie guffawed. She wasn't surprised Gus couldn't tell. Alex's hair was still rather short, and she preferred not to wear any makeup or jewelry. And even with the holiday and it being toasty-warm inside the house, she was still adorned in one of her typical hoodies pulled down over a plain, navy-blue tee and an austere pair of jeans with some scuffed up, neutral-colored sneakers. With her slim build, it was almost impossible for anyone to tell what sex she was. "She's a girl, Gus," she confirmed to the young boy with a smile, amused by Alex's sour expression. "A very _stubborn_ girl - but a girl nonetheless."

"Oh." Gus didn't seem particularly impressed either way. "You don't look much like a girl."

"Oh, really?" Alex quipped. "And just are how girls supposed to look, little boy?"

Gus studied that question for a moment before he replied, "Dressed up, with long hair and stuff on their faces, like my mommies."

Alex wrinkled up her nose in distaste. "Uh, huh. Not going to happen, pip squeak. I don't want all that pancake crap on my face."

"Alex..." Debbie warned her over her language.

Gus frowned. "Grandma Debbie?"

The redhead's face smiled in pleasure; she loved it when Gus called her 'grandma.' As far as she was concerned, nothing made her happier. "Yeah, Honey?"

"Does Mommy and Momma wear pancakes on their faces?"

Debbie laughed as Alex snickered. "It's not that kind of pancake, sweetheart," she explained, wondering how someone Alex's age would even know what the term meant; the girl continued to surprise her at every turn. Now if she could only get her to tone down her cynicism... "It's another word for makeup, like lipstick and eye shadow," she continued as Gus nodded in understanding.

"My mommies use pancakes to make themselves look pretty," he told her as Debbie chuckled.

"Yes, they do, Gus," she agreed as she fixed Alex with a reprimanding glare. "I need to help Justin with some of our dinner," she told the little boy. "Why don't you and Alex head downstairs for a while and play? I heard someone has your train set all ready for you."

Gus jumped up and down in excitement. "Yay!" he shouted, turning to run back down the hallway, shouting for his father the entire time, who was presently in the study, trying to stay out of the commotion. "Daddy! Daddy!"

Brian poked his head out the door, just in time to see his son running full speed for the basement door leading down to the lower level rec room. "Slow down, Sonny Boy!" he yelled as he rushed after him. "You'll get hurt!"

Debbie laughed as Brian came running after him. "Getting harder to keep up, isn't it, Dad?" she teased him as Alex giggled.

"I heard that, Debbie!" Brian retorted as he caught his son just as he yanked the basement door open. She watched as Brian scooped his giggling, squealing son up into his arms and carried him down to the basement rec room, knowing father and son would be playing 'choo-choo' for the next several minutes and wondering which 'boy' would be enjoying it more.

"That child can wear him out in no time," Debbie commented with a grin. "Well, that boy and another boy." She clamped her hand over her mouth. "Oops, forget I said that!" she cracked.

Alex scrunched up her nose. "Eww...TMI!"

Debbie laughed. "Sorry, Kiddo." She smiled at her. "How are things going here at Britin? Did they give you a map when you got here?" she teased her.

"They should have!" Alex quipped. "This house is huge! Why do they need a house this big?"

Debbie smiled wistfully. "They don't. But at the time, that wasn't the point."

Alex frowned as they stood face-to-face in the hallway. "Then why?" she asked in confusion.

Just then, Justin came walking up from the kitchen, a large bouquet of fall flowers displayed in a crystal vase that he was going to place on the dining room table. He smiled at Debbie just before he disappeared into the room. "That's why," she whispered softly, having heard the reason why Brian had invested in such an extravagant purchase. For someone who professed at the time to 'never do romance or relationships,' it had been one of the most romantic things she had ever heard. Even know, it brought tears to her eyes just thinking about it.

"Debbie?"

She turned to stare at the young girl standing across from her. "I'll tell you all about it some time," she promised her. "But for now," she continued, raising her voice and sniffling to compose herself, "Emmett and I have a more important job to do. Thanksgiving dinner! So you either need to find somewhere to stay out of the way, or we'll put you to work," she warned her.

Alex held up her hands. "No, thanks," she told her dryly. "Justin already assigned me KP duty earlier," she informed her as Debbie chuckled. "I think I'll head downstairs," she quickly decided.

"Good decision," she told her, figuring that would be her choice. "Sunshine! Time's a wasting!"

"I'm coming, Deb!" Justin called out to her as he hurried out of the dining room, just in time to see Alex turn and walk quickly toward the basement door before disappearing. He laughed as he caught up with Debbie. "You threatened to put her to work, didn't you?"

She grinned. "Worked like a charm," she told him. "I prefer only professionals on holidays."

Justin laughed. "Oh, I'm a professional now, huh?"

"Close enough," she confirmed as she put her arm on his shoulder. Just then, the sound of a pot or pan being dropped and a curse erupted from the kitchen. "Uh, Oh! Sounds like a catastrophe in the making. Coming, Em!" she shouted as the two of them hurried toward the kitchen.

* * *

_Later that Afternoon - kitchen_

_"_Will you cut that out? I'm trying to put him to work here," Debbie groused, watching Brian wrap his arms around Justin's waist and pull him against his chest to paste a wet kiss on his jaw from behind. Justin beamed in response as he turned his head to accept the kiss on the lips that he knew was going to follow.

"I_ am _putting him to work, Deb," Brian informed her as he broke off their kiss and Justin grinned, leaning back against his husband's body. Emmett was presently busy in the dining room, putting the finishing touches on the table and gathering up all the miniature crystal, salt-and-pepper shakers, the gravy boat, platters, and serving utensils from the matching buffet, leaving Debbie in charge of the kitchen duties, much like Justin had been earlier with Alex.

"Well, you can give Sunshine a 'workout' later," she told him flatly. "I need his hands to help me get everything heated up - and don't you say it," she warned him, suddenly realizing what she had said. Brian grinned and did a 'zipping motion' across his lips. She rolled her eyes. "Now let go of that man, and let us get dinner ready - or you can stay and start making the salad by peeling the onions."

Brian promptly released his husband and peered over at Debbie with a horrified expression on his face. "I'm the CEO of a multi-million dollar company, and the next governor's campaign manager, and you want me to peel onions?"

Justin giggled at Brian's reaction as the doorbell rang. "Saved by the bell," he quipped teasingly as he turned around and pecked Brian on the lips playfully. "Go ahead, Big Stuff," he urged him as he grabbed his upper arms and turned him toward the door. "You can play butler instead."

"Thanks," Brian told him dryly as he turned and headed down the hallway to answer the door. A few minutes later, Tony came walking into the kitchen. "Brian said you needed a second set of hands," he reported to Debbie and Justin, who snorted. "What?"

"Played like a true advertising man," Justin told him as Tony walked up to him. "Always knows how to put the right spin on things. Debbie was threatening to put him to work in here, and he bailed. Seems he's found a replacement, though." He noticed Tony holding a covered dish of some kind in his hands. "What's that?"

Tony smiled. "My contribution to the cause," he told him. "My grandmother's homemade recipe for Wild Rice with Dried Apricots and Pistachios." He lifted the Tupperware-like lid to let Justin take a peek.

"Hmm...Smells terrific!" he raved. "What's in it?"

"Pistachios, apricots, red onion, and red pepper with wild rice. You're going to love it; goes great with the turkey, too," he told him with a smile.

Justin nodded. "Looks great," he agreed as he took the large bowl and set it down near some of the other dishes. "Tony, you remember Debbie, don't you?"

Tony smiled over at the flashy-looking woman; even in a tacky tee-shirt, she definitely stood out. "Of course. Someone like Debbie is unforgettable." And he meant that in a good way, although someone who dressed and sounded and acted like Debbie _would_ be impossible to forget in any case. "Good to see you again, Debbie," he told her politely.

Debbie eyed him intently; so much so that he flushed at the scrutiny. "You know you're adorable, too, just like Sunshine here," she told him unexpectedly. "I can see why Brian's father would be so taken with you."

Justin grinned as Tony - the hardened, bulldog-type, no-holds-barred criminal attorney - blushed. "Thanks," he managed to mumble a little uncomfortably. He cleared his throat. "Uh...do you two need any help?" he asked in an attempt to steer her attention toward another subject.

"Is that an offer?" she asked as Tony nodded. She smiled, pleased. "We certainly can! How are you at making a Caesar Salad?"

Tony grinned. "The Romans themselves would be asking me for my recipe."

Debbie chortled. "I _like _his confidence!" She cocked her head over toward the counter next to the refrigerator. "All the fixings are over there," she told him as Tony nodded. "And Sunshine, why don't you grab the rolls and stick 'em in the oven to start warming them up? And I have a sheet of lemon bars that need to be cut into pieces for desert later, too." She smacked her head. "And that reminds me! We still need to cut the pies up!"

The two men grinned at her in amusement before Justin replied dutifully, "Yes, Ma'am." Five minutes later, they were all busily involved with getting ready for the big meal of the evening.

* * *

_Same Time - Brian's Study_

"Another?" Brian asked as he held the crystal decanter of Beam out toward his father.

Fin smiled slightly and shook his head. "No, thanks," he told him from his place in one of the dark leather, stuffed chairs near the fireplace. The day had started out quite chilly - a stark contrast to earlier in the week - so Brian had started a wood fire earlier to warm the large space. "Come and sit down," he encouraged his son. He paused for a moment before reflecting, "You know, I think this is the first time we've had a chance to really talk since I was elected."

Brian tilted his head back to finish the remainder of his Beam before placing the stout glass back down next to the decanter. Walking over to his father, he sat down in the other chair that was facing perpendicular to his, watching the crackling flames dancing across the logs before he nodded thoughtfully. "Yeah, I think you're right." He peered over at his father's face pensively. "So how's it going? The preparations, I mean."

"For the inauguration?"

Brian nodded.

Fin sighed. "Tedious and very time-consuming. I had no idea there were so many details to be resolved, just for taking office. At least the venue is pre-determined; that's _one_ decision I don't have to make."

Brian lifted an eyebrow in question as he advised him, "It's done on the steps of the Capitol Building. You and Justin ARE going to be there, right? It wouldn't be the same without you both there. And Gus, Kathy, and Sean, too. After all, you're my family - along with Tony," he added with a grateful smile. "I want you all up there with me when I'm sworn in." It felt amazing to say that, too; Fin never thought he would ever a son or grandson, let alone an extended family.

To his relief, Brian nodded in confirmation, and rewarded him with a slight smile. "Wouldn't miss it," he assured him. He rolled his lips under as he explained, "Besides, Justin would kill me if we didn't come."

Fin chuckled. "Well, whatever works," he teased back, knowing - well, at least hoping - that his son felt the same way. "And Gus, Sean, and Kathy?"

"I'm sure they're all planning on coming. Although Gus will probably find it a little boring - at least once he gets over seeing all the people standing there staring back at us. I'll have to keep a tight grip on him; he tends to start squirming when he gets bored. You know how little boys can be with their short attention spans."

For a brief moment, Fin couldn't help thinking, _no...I don't_ _know_. He would always regret not being around when Brian was growing up. If he had only known...If LYDIA had only realized how much he would have cherished being a father. He could only imagine how it would have been, but if the joy he derived from being around Gus was any indication, he would have fucking loved it. He forced that rather morose thought from his mind, though; as much as he might like to, there was no manipulating or changing history now.

Brian frowned slightly as he noticed what appeared to be a pained look cross his father's face. "Fin?"

Fin shook his head reassuringly. "Nothing," he told him dismissively with a smile. "I was just thinking about everything that still needs to be done."

Brian nodded, still not convinced he was getting the whole story. But for whatever reason, Fin appeared as if he didn't want to pursue it any further, so he chose to drop it for now.

"Uh, Brian..."

"Yeah?"

"I'm still trying to find the right man - or woman - to be my press secretary and write my official speeches, but I'm having a difficult time finding the right person. I have a favor to ask you...actually, _two _favors..."

Brian eyed him curiously. "Yes?"

Fin grinned sheepishly. "I never _have _been any good at speech writing, or interviewing people for staff positions. You have a natural talent for it, though. So...I wondering if..."

"...If I might be willing to help you do both until you find someone?"

Fin smiled. "How'd you guess? Would you? I trust your judgment absolutely."

Brian rolled his eyes good-naturedly; he wasn't exactly surprised by his father's request. In fact, he was actually expecting it in a way. "I suppose I could find time to do that. Actually, Cynthia, my assistant, is a whiz when it comes to weeding out the better candidates. If it's okay with you, I can ask her to take an initial look at your applicants to screen them for you first."

"That would be great!" Fin responded gratefully.

Brian nodded, hearing the doorbell ring. Before he could get up to answer it, however, he heard someone padding down the steps and the door opening as Justin greeted Sean and Kathy at the door. A few seconds later, the older couple poked their heads in the door and peered over at Brian and Fin as Justin excused himself to head back to the kitchen.

"Brian! And the new governor-elect!" Sean exclaimed with a big smile as Brian and Fin stood up to welcome them. "Happy Thanksgiving!" he greeted them as he and Kathy walked into the room. As usual, both of them were casually but smartly dressed for the occasion: Sean was decked out in a pair of coal-gray khakis with a black polo shirt - a leaping fish on the pocket - while his wife was dressed in a pair of brown linen slacks, an orange-colored, nylon blouse, and a knit sweater decorated with pumpkins, turkeys, and fall leaves. A pair of glasses was hung by a pearl-chain around her neck as she walked over and hugged first Brian and then Fin.

"Same to you, Sean," Fin replied as the two men shook hands before Sean reached over and impulsively hugged his grandson briefly.

"You're looking a little more rested, Brian," he observed as he studied him.

Brian smiled. "Thanks. Yeah, it's funny - I used to think when I was working full tilt on Kinnetik business, I was working my ass off." He smirked at his father. "I found out when I went to work for Fin that I had NO idea what that concept was until then. Next to being his campaign manager, being CEO of Kinnetik is like a vacation now."

Fin laughed as he told them, "And to think he just volunteered to write my inaugural speech and help me interview for a press secretary."

Brian explained, "With a little persuasion from my father."

"I appealed to his ego. I figured it if works with Tony on me, I could do the same with him."

Kathy laughed. "Well, for whatever reason, I think it's a wonderful idea! Brian did a terrific job helping out with your campaign speeches after that horrid Stewart person was arrested." She shuddered, a little dismayed she had brought up that man's name. This was supposed to be a happy occasion, and the last thing she wanted was to spoil their first holiday together as one, big family. She quickly moved to change the subject as she continued, "Sean and I want to thank you for inviting us here today, Brian."

Brian smiled at her warmly. "Justin and I wouldn't have had it any other way," he assured both her and Sean. "We're grateful that you could be here today to celebrate with us."

"Thank you, Brian," Sean replied sincerely. "We're both so honored to be a part of this amazing family."

Brian nodded at him, suddenly feeling a lump in his throat. Why was this day affecting him so much? For so long, he had never really been part of any family, except for Gus and Justin. He supposed he could count Michael and Debbie - and even Vic when he had been alive - as a makeshift family while he had been growing up. But to have a real, genuine family now - one to be there during the good times and the bad, and one to forge new memories with - that was very foreign to him. But it was also welcome; very, very welcome.

He cleared his throat. "Well, Fin and I are staying out of the kitchen for our own protection," he told them as they laughed. "Would you like a drink?"

"No, thanks," Sean told him. "Don't spread this around," he told him as he smiled over at his wife. "But we're pretty much teetotalers. We guzzle iced tea at home."

"Decaffeinated," Kathy clarified. "Or we'd be up all night long." She smiled at Brian and Fin. "I think if it's all the same to you, I'll head into the kitchen and see if they could use some help."

"...And I can't wait to see my fishing buddy again! He's here, isn't he?" Sean asked. "It's awfully quiet around here."

Brian laughed. "Oh, he's here, all right. I just have him occupied in the rec room downstairs with his train set. Alex is down there with him. For some reason, she preferred that to helping out in the kitchen. I can't imagine why," he added dryly.

"Oh, that's right! Alex, the foster child. How is that going, Brian?"

Brian sighed. "Let's just say she keeps us on our toes. She's being tutored right now so she can hopefully be mainstreamed into 5th grade next year. She's actually very intelligent," he added. "And Justin is ecstatic since he found out she has artistic talent."

"Really?" Kathy exclaimed in surprise. She smiled. "Well, I can't think of a better teacher for art than Justin. I think it's wonderful what you're doing, Brian," she told him sincerely. "That girl will blossom under your and Justin's attention."

Brian snorted. "Well, it might take me a while to use the word 'blossom' and Alex in the same sentence," he admitted. "But she IS one smart little shi...uh, girl," he finally concluded, not able to come up with any other word to adequately describe her that wouldn't offend his grandmother's sensibilities. "Justin said the tutor even told her she might fall into the gifted category, believe it or not."

"Really?" Sean murmured as Brian nodded. "Well, that IS a surprise. But that should help her get caught up, then, I would think."

Brian nodded again. "I hope so," he said sincerely. "She has been through a lot, from what I've learned, and from what the social services have told us." He sighed. "I just wish her social _graces _would catch up a lot faster."

Kathy and Sean laughed. "That is something you're not really born with, Brian," Kathy reminded him. "It's something you have to learn. She'll figure it out; you'll see."

Brian smirked. "I'll leave that in Justin's capable hands," he told them. "He has better manners - and tact - than I have."

"Well, speaking of social graces, I'd best go see if they need any help in the kitchen."

"I'll come with you," Sean volunteered with a smile. "I want to go visit my fishing buddy." Fin and Brian grinned at them as they both turned and exited the room, leaving father and son alone again.

"They are really fond of Gus," Fin commented as he gazed over at his own son. "He's a great kid, Brian."

"Yeah, he is," Brian softly agreed, a wistful expression on his face as he thought about the child who meant so much to him. Fin peered over at him silently as he explained, "I never really thought I would want a kid; at least not back then. I was just the convenient sperm donor for Lindsay." He paused before conceding, "But I was wrong. I was wrong about a lot of things. Not only about how much I would love having a son...but also how I would feel about being married - and monogamous." He snorted in disbelief. "Fuck, I never thought I would ever say that out loud!"

He expected his father to laugh over that statement, but to his surprise he didn't. "Fin?" His father was staring down at his hands.

Fin seemed lost in thought for several seconds, until his eyes lifted to meet his questioning son's. "You really think it makes a difference, Brian?"

"What?"

"Being married. I mean, you and Justin could have been monogamous without the rings or the legality involved. A lot of gay couples do that."

Brian eyed him intently, astutely reading between the lines. "You mean like you and Tony."

"Yeah," Fin quietly replied. "Why is it so important?"

"Tony wants to get married...and you don't."

Fin walked over and poured himself another shot of Beam before belting it back in one go. "Yeah. I mean, he doesn't nag me about it or anything," he explained. "But it's like this...this weight hanging between us unsaid." He brushed his left hand through his hair. "And, of course, it doesn't help that my partner and your husband have become comrades-in-arms. I'm guessing that's where you got your information from."

"Not really," Brian told him to his surprise. "I guess I just put two and two together." He smiled. "I'm in advertising, remember? I get paid to anticipate people's needs and wishes."

Fin nodded as he placed the glass back down onto the oval, crystal serving tray and walked back over to sit down in the chair opposite his son. "You still didn't answer my question," he pointed out. "I'd really like to know what changed your mind."

Brian gave that some thought. "I don't think it was one thing in particular," he finally responded. "And it wasn't something that happened overnight, trust me," he added with a short laugh. His smile faded a little bit into something more thoughtful as he continued, "But over time I realized that it meant a lot to Justin, and it was a way for me to openly demonstrate my love and support for him, and my - God help me, _faithfulness_ _and commitment_ - to him. I finally realized that I liked the idea of having Justin here when I came home. And not just because of the sex," he clarified. "That's still amazing, by the way," he confided with a smirk as Fin's face warmed a little over that piece of information - not that it was surprising to him. "But it's much more than that. It's having someone who knows my every mood, who knows when I need support, or knows when to back off a little and let me have my space. It's someone who...who just makes me a better man, a better person. I might have been happy without the rings and the document," he admitted as he looked down at the shining band on his left hand. "And we could have had the same setup here without them." He smiled. "But I don't regret marrying him," he told Fin softly. "I would do it again in a heartbeat. Believe it or not, I _like_ wearing this ring now. And I am one lucky son of a bitch that Justin wears mine." He grinned, shaking his head slightly as he asked, "Does that make any sense at all?"

Fin considered that for a few moments before he nodded. "Yeah...I think so." He couldn't imagine not having Tony with him at all times - to love him, to support him, to calm him when he was stressed out or agitated by something that had happened. One of his greatest pleasures was waking up with him in bed in the morning, and going to bed with him at night. But perhaps the greatest satisfaction he derived of all was that Tony challenged him, never coddled him, or glossed over something merely to make it more palatable. His partner knew him so well - so fucking well - that sometimes it seemed he knew him better than he knew himself. Did that have to mean marrying him, though? Like Justin, he knew that being married was one of Tony's most desired dreams. His partner always _had_ been the more sentimental type, the one where conventions and tradition meant a great deal to him. Ironic in a way, considering that by successfully winning the gubernatorial race he was forging new pathways through heretofore unnavigated waters. There WAS no guidebook or manual where he was about to tread; not for either of them. And if they added marriage to that...well...that would definitely be breaking from tradition. But wasn't that the point? To show that a gay couple should have the same privilege as a straight one? That it didn't matter who the spouses were, as long as they loved each other? Why did it have to be 'untraditional' at all? Perhaps one day it wouldn't turn so many heads by its uniqueness. For now, though, it was up to him. Just what DID he want? He sighed.

"It's...complicated," he finally replied a little lamely to his son. "I mean, even if I think about getting married, there's the governorship, the new staff I have to appoint, everyone who will be wanting my attention left and right...Not to mention all the focus that will be on Tony as well, whether he's my partner OR my husband. He's already had a taste of that at work, and he didn't like it one bit."

"Well, as you just pointed out, he's going to get that regardless, Fin, whether he's your husband OR your partner. And since when do you run from a challenge? Not since I met you. I know you well enough by now to know that you will _always _be in the spotlight, no matter where you are or what you are doing." Brian studied his father, clearly noting the conflict on his face. It was a lot like the same type of dilemma he had faced himself a few years ago.

He scoffed at himself softly in disbelief. "I can't believe I'm about to say this," Brian murmured. It was almost surreal in a way. He took a deep breath and let it out as his father peered at him curiously. "Fin, I was where you are now not so long ago. So I know where you're coming from. But I guess the main question is: What's more important to you? Standing up on some lonely pedestal - proving to the world that you don't need a band on your finger or some legal document to show how much you love your partner? Or just swallowing your fucking stubbornness and 'holier-than-thou' righteousness, and doing the one thing that would make your partner the happiest? How would it change anything whether you got married or not?"

"It wouldn't," Fin maintained. "I would still feel the same way. I love that man, body and soul."

"Exactly!" Brian declared. "So why does it matter if you're married or not?"

"That's what I'm saying," Brian's father responded, furrowing his brow in confusion. "It wouldn't change the way I feel about him. He's the _one_. And he knows how much I love him. There wouldn't be _any_ difference in the way I feel about him - or how he feels about ME."

Brian sighed, feeling like they were going round and round in an endless circle. "Well...Mr. Governor-Elect, for someone who was shrewd and astute enough to become the first gay governor of the great State of Pennsylvania, you sure can be dense when it comes to matters of the heart." He shook his head in exasperation as he abruptly stood up. "Come on," he urged him as he grabbed his arm and pulled him upright.

"What?"

"Just come with me."

Still perplexed, Fin nonetheless followed his son out the door and down the hallway, toward the rear of the house where the gourmet kitchen was situated. The sounds of laughter and animated conversation could be heard filtering out of the open space as the two men approached the room. Brian stopped short of entering the kitchen as he and Fin watched their men working side by side at the kitchen counter, preparing some sort of side dish as they discussed the proper way to mix the ingredients together. Debbie and Emmett were busily cutting a couple of Jell-O salads into serving portions and placing them on small desert plates over in the corner, while some type of corny music was playing in the background through Britin's intercom music system. Kathy was arranging the drinking glasses, and preparing a large pitcher of iced tea for dinner.

As they stood there silently watching, Fin's eyes were fixated on his partner as Brian quietly spoke to him, not wanting to be overheard. "What do you see when you look at him, Fin?" He didn't wait for his father to answer before he continued, "Probably pretty much the same thing that I see when I look at Justin." He glanced down at his wedding ring on his left hand - the symbol of commitment that he never in his wildest dreams thought he would ever consent to wear. But now he couldn't think of NOT wearing it.

Fin sighed wearily as he held his hands out hopelessly. "Brian, what do you want from me?"

"I want you to look at him, Fin; _really _look at him." Fin's gaze drifted back over at his partner, who was laughing with Justin as they engaged in a friendly argument now over some sort of culinary technique. "There's never been any doubt that you love him," Brian whispered. "The real question then, is: just what are you willing to do to make the man you love _happy_? That was the question _I_ had to answer." He gazed over at Justin as he revealed, "And you know what? I found out it's pretty damn amazing being married to Justin. And I don't feel like I lost anything at all; what I gained more than surpassed any hesitation or insecurity that I had."

Almost as if he knew Brian was watching him then, Justin turned his head and caught his gaze, smiling over at him radiantly as Brian smiled back at him in return. "Safe to venture inside, Sunshine?" he teased as Justin rolled his eyes.

"As long as you stay away from my vegetables," he warned him as Brian chuckled.

Brian turned to his father to say, "Just think about it," before he and Fin joined the others.

* * *

_Same Time - Downstairs_

Gus watched, wide-eyed, as Alex smacked the ping pong ball against the slate surface of the table before it bounced hard against the concrete of the wall behind it. She was like the automatic ball pitching machine he used back home that had been a gift from his father. He had tried to hit the ball earlier with his own paddle, but had given up after a few minutes once he had been subjected to playing ball retriever over and over again as it whizzed by his head. His adversary had simply been much too daunting for him. Besides, he was finding this latest exhibition fascinating; so much so that he had at least temporarily forgotten his much-treasured train set.

"How'd you learn to do that?" he called out to her as his head bounced back and forth in time with the ball as he watched from his place in one of the vinyl gaming chairs. She was amazing; she had been hitting the ball with her paddle for several minutes now without a miss.

Alex snorted as she kept her eyes focused on the ball. This kid was easily impressed, she decided, and he hadn't stopped asking her questions since the moment they had met upstairs. "It's not that hard," she finally told him breathlessly as she continued to smack the ball. "You just have to be coordinated."

Gus frowned as he placed his elbows on his knees and peered over at her thoughtfully. "What's cord'nated?"

"Co-or-din-na-ted," she enunciated. She huffed out an exasperated breath. "It means being able to keep your eyes on the ball and hitting it at the right time," she explained. She briefly peered over at him in exasperation. "Do you ever stop asking questions?"

Gus shook his head. "Daddy says I ask more questions than an attorney. What's an attorney?"

"Aaargh!" Alex growled, letting out a weary sigh. "Just forget it." She caught the ping pong ball in her hand and placed her paddle over it on the table to anchor it before walking over to the built-in snack bar, leaning down to open up the mini-fridge. Reaching for a water bottle, she looked over her shoulder at the little boy eyeing her intently. "Want one?" she asked as Gus nodded back at her.

Twisting the plastic cap of the bottle to loosen it, she walked over and handed it to him, plopping down into the other leather gaming chair next to his. Opening her bottle, she took a large swig, wiping some water from her mouth with her sleeve afterward. She watched in amusement as Gus repeated her action with his own sleeve, even though she couldn't see any moisture there, finishing up with an audible 'ahh' as he placed it down on the floor next to him.

"You play video games?" Gus asked her all of a sudden. "Donkey Kong is my favorite."

Alex snorted. "Do I look like a queen to you, or someone with a pocketful of money?"

Gus shook his head solemnly, oblivious to her sarcasm. "No," he decided. "But Donkey Kong is a gorilla, not a queen."

"Oh, brother," Alex muttered. She sighed before explaining, "I didn't find too many video games in the garbage, so I'm a little rusty."

Gus frowned. "Why didn't you just buy them at the store like my Daddy does?"

"Forget it," she told him curtly. "You wouldn't understand."

Gus peered over at her silently for a few moments before he asked, "Do you want to play?"

Alex shrugged. "Sure. Why not?" she decided. She reached for her water bottle to take another large gulp first, unable to keep from laughing as Gus promptly did the same thing, before she reached to grab one of the game system's controllers.

* * *

_One Hour Later..._

"Daddy! Daddy!" Gus shrieked as he bolted up the stairs and rushed through the open door.

Brian, who was leaning against the kitchen counter, playing 'head chef' and dishing out instructions to a very exasperated husband, turned to smile at his excited son. "What is it, Sonny Boy?" He noticed Alex trudging up the steps a few seconds later.

"Alex, lights," he gently scolded her as she rolled her eyes, but flipped the switch to turn off the light heading down to the rec room.

Gus came rushing up to his father, his cheeks flushed and his eyes aglow. "Guess what, Daddy?" he repeated excitedly.

Brian grinned. "What?"

"Alex got to Level 15 on Donkey Kong!" he exclaimed as he turned to peer over at her with open admiration in his eyes. "You can never get past Level 10," he dutifully pointed out as Justin snickered nearby.

Brian flashed his husband a brief glare before he peered over at their foster child. "Very impressive," he admitted as she shrugged nonchalantly. "I may have to get some pointers from you. You must have played that a lot of times."

"No, Daddy," Gus instantly corrected him before she could respond. "Alex says she never played it before. She told me she looked for one in the garbage, but couldn't find one. Daddy, why would someone throw Donkey Kong out?" he asked innocently.

Brian cleared his throat as he and Justin shared a meaningful look between them. He glanced over at Alex, who averted her eyes in embarrassment as the room became suddenly quieter, even though there were others there at the moment. "Never mind, Gus," he told his son quietly. "We'll be eating dinner soon. Why don't you and Alex go wash your hands, and then you can help us with getting everything ready, okay?"

Gus nodded. "Okay, Daddy!" he turned to peer over at Alex. "Come on, Alex!" he told her as he walked over and held out his hand toward her. A flicker of surprise spread over her face, before she finally reached out and clasped the smaller hand in hers and the two of them slowly walked down the hallway side-by-side, heading toward the half-bathroom near the front door.

"Well, I never..." Debbie murmured in astonishment as she peered over at Brian and Justin, who were equally amazed. "If I didn't know better, I'd say she _likes_ that little guy."

"What's not to like?" Brian quipped as he quickly recovered. "He's my son; he's perfect."

Debbie shook her head. "Oh, yeah, how could I have forgotten?" She watched the two disappear down the hallway. "Well, I've said it before, but it bears repeating: there is a lot more to that girl than we've seen so far. You need to give her some time, boys."

"Debbie, we already know that," Justin assured her with a patient smile; before Brian could reply with a typical retort, he reached over to clasp his hand in his and subtly squeeze it in warning. He heard Brian sigh imperceptibly in reaction as he continued, "We learned a lot about how damaged some of these kids can be from our training classes."

Debbie nodded as Emmett watched the interaction from the stove, where he was slowly stirring some gravy to go with his famous 'smashed' potatoes.

"She's right, you know," he interjected quietly as the others turned to peer over at him. He was uncharacteristically subdued as he told them, "Being a foster kid can really suck sometimes."

Justin frowned. "You sound like you speak from personal experience, Em."

Emmett nodded, a shadow of a smile on his face. "I am, Baby," he told Justin softly. "Because I _was _one."

Justin's mouth hung open. "You...you _were_?"

Emmett turned the burner off, lifting the pot to pour the now-thickened liquid into a china gravy boat and placing the pot into the sink nearby before nodding again. "Yes," he told the others. He smiled. "Fortunately for me, however, my cuteness worked in my favor, and I was eventually adopted by this wonderful foster couple who were older and couldn't have kids."

Brian shook his head skeptically before huffing at him. "You're making that shit up."

Emmett shook his head back at him, his face the epitome of seriousness. "No, Brian...I'm not," he responded a little stiffly. "I was placed into the foster system when I was two years old."

"Em," Debbie murmured in shock, an oven-mitt covering the hand on her hip. "What about your Aunt Lula that you're always talking about? Why didn't _she_ adopt you, or take you in? And what happened to your own parents?"

Emmett swallowed hard as he stared over at his long-time friends. He hadn't really meant to bring this up, but it was Thanksgiving - a day of thinking about family and friends, and reflecting upon what blessings you have been given, and he couldn't think of a bigger blessing than the one that had been bestowed upon him - so he decided it was time to reveal one of his innermost secrets to them. "My Aunt Lula wasn't 'really' my aunt at all. She was my foster mother, and the one who adopted me later, along with Uncle Herman. I just called them Aunt and Uncle. I wasn't really related to them at all, not by blood, anyway."

The occupants in the room were stunned into silence; Emmett - dear, old, bubbly, hardly-a-care-in-the-world Emmett - had been adopted himself. And none of them had ever known. "Oh, and my parents," he added in response to Debbie's other question. "They were young when they had me. Teenagers." He looked over at Brian. "Much like _your_ parents." Justin had told him as much as they knew about Fin and Lydia's relationship, and he had thought about all the similarities ever since. "I don't think I'll ever know the whole story - Lord knows I've tried to find out - but I wound up being placed in the foster system when they couldn't deal with the responsibility, apparently." He smiled fondly in recollection. "But Aunt Lula and Uncle Herman were the best parents I could have ever hoped for, bless their souls, and very wise."

Justin peered over at him, stunned. "Em...I...We had no idea."

Emmett shrugged as he walked over to pull out the utensil drawer to locate the carving knife for the turkey. "To me, they WERE my parents, so I never really gave it much thought," he told them with a smile. "And you can be, too," he told Brian and Justin. "You don't become parents by blood; you become parents by example. That's _another_ one of Aunt Lula's pearls of wisdom."

"Hear, hear!" Debbie exclaimed in approval. "I couldn't agree more."

"And now, if you'll all excuse me," Emmett replied. "I have some more work to do. Someone needs to ring the dinner bell soon, too. I think we're almost ready."

Justin felt Brian's hand clamp over his shoulder, then, as the two exchanged a meaningful look before Brian offered to go locate his father and Tony, who had opted to take a walk around the grounds a little earlier.

"I'll go find the others," Justin opted. "I know where all the hiding places and alcoves are; otherwise, it could be a couple of hours before we find everyone," he joked as the others grinned at him. As he walked away to go in search of all their guests, however, Emmett's revelation remained uppermost in his mind.

* * *

Alex splashed water over her face, peering down in amusement to find Gus doing the same thing as he cupped his hands together and threw some of the liquid on his face. She laughed as he sputtered in reaction before handing him a towel to use. "You're a real dork, you know that?" he told him in amusement.

"What's a dork?" Gus immediately asked.

"Why did I know you were going to ask me that? You mean, you've never heard anyone use the work 'dork' before?" Gus shook his head as she sighed. "Boy, do YOU have a lot to learn!" She took the towel from Gus, bunched it in a ball, and promptly tossed it into the open hamper nearby, causing Gus's eyes to grow wide as saucers.

"Do that again!" he squealed in glee. Alex smiled, reached for a hand towel that had been hanging next to the other towel, and repeated the same process, deftly dunking the other crumpled fabric into the hamper as if it were a basketball.

Gus giggled and clapped in response, causing her to break out into a smile.

"Gus! Alex!" they heard Lindsay calling them then from the hallway. "Time for dinner! Everyone's here now! Where _are_ you?"

"Coming, Mommy!" Gus shouted. Reaching for Alex's hand again, she hesitated for just a moment before slipping her hand in his, suddenly deciding that she liked this feeling.


	42. Santa's Gifts

_The men spend Christmas alone with their partners before Fin's inauguration in January. Will Tony get his most fervent wish? _

_One Month Later - Christmas Eve_

"Do you hear that?" Justin murmured as he and Brian lay lengthways on the couch in their study, his smaller body cradled in the 'V' of Brian's larger one.

Brian frowned, his hands intertwined with Justin's on his husband's chest. "All I hear is the grandfather clock out in the hall," he commented.

Justin sighed in pleasure. "Exactly," he replied as Brian smiled in understanding, nuzzling the side of Justin's neck with his lips. "Ahh...the sound of silence."

"My favorite sound," Brian whispered in agreement. "Well...my _second _favorite sound," he decided as Justin blushed, knowing exactly what he meant. "I love how vocal you are when you come, you naughty boy."

Justin grinned as he twisted his head to accept Brian's kiss. Snuggling further into Brian's embrace after they broke off the kiss several seconds later, Justin watched the jumping flames from the study's fireplace before he spoke again. "Alex is doing remarkably well with the tutor."

Brian nodded against his head. "Yeah, amazing, isn't it? She's an angel around the tutor, and a devil around us."

Justin pushed lightly against Brian's hold to turn in his arms and drape his body over his husband's. "Come on, Brian. That's not exactly true. She's gotten better."

"Justin, she is still argumentative, obstinate, and always thinks she is superior. I still say we need to assign her latrine duty."

Justin smiled as he gazed down into the twinkling, hazel eyes. "Are you sure you're not describing yourself?" he asked as Brian scowled. "Just kidding," he added hastily with an impish grin. "I know she can be difficult at times," he conceded as Brian flashed an incredulous look at him. "But Gus adores her."

"And I thought that kid had better judgment than that," Brian replied as he reached up to tuck an errant strand of blond hair behind Justin's ear. "The two of them do seem to have bonded," he conceded. "I wonder how long it will take before they're robbing banks together?"

Justin laughed. "Brian!" he scolded him as his husband shrugged. He shook his head in amusement before commenting, "She would probably deny it vehemently, but I think Alex enjoys her role as 'big sister' to Gus. They say imitation is the greatest form of flattery."

"Some things - like throwing snowballs the size of softballs - are NOT necessarily a good thing to mimic," Brian replied.

Justin laughed. "Throwing snowballs?"

Brian nodded. "Yeah. Last weekend, when Gus spent the night, and we thought Alex was out helping to make a snowman with him in the backyard?"

"They DID make a snowman," Justin pointed out. "I saw it."

"Yeah, well, that's not the _only _skill Alex taught her biggest fan that day. She also taught him how to make a snowball; or should I say, an ICE ball. I made the mistake of leaving the SUV out front, because we were going out to dinner in town later, remember?" Justin nodded his head. "Well, I wound up getting ambushed by the front bushes when I came home. Those damn things made out of wet snow hurt like a motherfucker, Justin! By the way, remind me to sign my son up for Little League this spring; he's got an extremely accurate aim, even more than Alex does."

Justin stared at him in astonishment before bursting into laughter.

"It isn't funny, Justin! That girl is teaching my son to be a bad ass."

"Where was I when this happened?"

"You were late that night, remember? 'Boys' Night Out' with your co-conspirator."

Justin nodded in revelation. "Ahh...I was meeting Tony for drinks in town before coming home." Tony had been in Pittsburgh for the day to do some research on one of his cases, and had asked if he could join him at the hotel's bar for a couple of drinks, just to hang out for a while before he was due to meet with his client for dinner later to discuss a deposition with him.

Brian nodded, his long fingers slowly rubbing up and down Justin's arms, making his husband shiver slightly in response. "That's right. And you left me vulnerable. I have no doubt if YOU had come home first, instead of leaving Jennifer to watch them, I would have been spared target practice, and YOU would have had a fistful of snow in _your_ mouth instead. She drenched my new Armani coat, too."

Justin grinned. "Sounds like Alex missed a great photo op."

"No, she didn't," was the response. "While Gus was pelting me with mutant-size snowballs, SHE was using her new camera to record the moment for posterity. She wasn't too happy when I made her delete the photos afterward, though; they were - shall we say - not that flattering to me, as hard as that is to believe." Justin smiled as he added, "Do you know that girl has a fucking Flickr account, Justin? How did she go from dumpster diving to social media?"

Justin laughed as he reminded him, "Do you remember that 'early Christmas gift' you gave her two weeks ago, Brian? The camera that you thought she might like to use for her tutoring project in photography? The one that had sharing software on it?"

Brian's mouth hung open in epiphany. "Fuck."

Justin smiled as he leaned down to bestow a peck on Brian's lips; pulling back, he shivered slightly in the somewhat cool air. With the higher ceiling in the room - and the lack of proper insulation older homes were prone to have - even with the fireplace burning the room tended to stay a little on the chilly side.

Brian's arms wrapped around his husband to slide under Justin's cotton, long-sleeved shirt and settle at the small of his back, right where it arched elegantly before disappearing into the wondrous place known as Justin's ass. "Cold?" he asked, a little concerned; he could feel some goose pimples breaking out on his husband's skin, answering his question before Justin could even respond.

"A little," Justin admitted, even though he was dressed fairly warmly. He tended to stay colder than Brian most of the time; invariably at night, he would wind up hogging the covers, which worked out fairly well, since Brian was normally too warm in bed.

Brian smirked as he gazed up into the familiar face; unlike most people, Justin seemed to grow more beautiful with age, and he still took his breath away. He figured it would _always _be that way. "Well, I guess I'll just have to warm you up, then, won't I?" He was thankful that Debbie had requested that Alex come and stay with her until tomorrow; she had wanted to spend time with her - yes - but both men suspected she also would wind up recruiting their foster child for Christmas cookie duty tonight, and Christmas Day brunch and dinner preparations tomorrow. Alex was going to no doubt discover that her temporary reprieve from doing chores here at Britin was going to quickly be supplanted with more strenuous activities at Debbie and Carl's house.

Justin's eyes sparkled in the firelight as he settled himself further over Brian's body. "Yeah, I guess you'd better; wouldn't want me to catch my death of cold."

The two of them kissed for a few seconds, the fire crackling nearby, before Brian gently pushed Justin up off the couch to stand next to him. Taking his hand, he pulled him toward the doorway. "As amazing as you look in firelight, Sunshine, I'd rather do this properly in bed." He grimaced as he stretched backward, feeling the soreness in his back from lying too long on the couch. "I'm not getting any younger." He didn't take time to consider that it wouldn't have been too long ago he would have never admitted that to anyone, even Justin. But now it didn't seem to matter as much in light of everything else that had happened recently.

Justin nodded as the two of them exited the study and walked hand-in-hand toward the steps leading upstairs, walking up to the second landing and turning to head toward the master bedroom.

"Brian?"

Brian turned to peer at his husband as they reached their destination a few minutes later, walking over long enough to turn on the fireplace that had been renovated from a wood-burning version into a propane gas model. Picking up the remote from the mantel, he pressed the button to bring the fireplace to life before placing the device back down and turning back again to face his husband, who was standing a few feet away with a thoughtful look on his face.

"Yeah?"

"Tony and Fin will be at Debbie's tomorrow, too, right? Along with Gus and Sean and Kathy?"

Brian nodded. "That's my understanding, along with your mom, Mel and Lindsay - and, of course, our angelic, little foster child who's already there. You wouldn't expect us to all actually fit at the same table, would you?" Despite the relative smallness of Debbie's home, it was tradition to still gather in the compact space of her home every year to partake of Christmas dinner. No one seemed to care that some of them had to eat dinner from tray tables in addition to sitting around her dining room table. It was all part of the chaos. At least this year, the others wouldn't be attending. Michael and Ben were taking some sort of exotic, ecotour of the Far East (Ben's idea of a Christmas gift to him), Hunter had his own family, and Emmett and Ted were electing to spend time with their own 'significant others.' This year, then, it would be a mixture of old and new members of 'the family.'

Justin laughed. "No, of course not," he agreed. "That's part of the fun."

Brian snorted. "I'm not sure if 'fun' is the right word, but I get your point. Orderly is not a word spoken in Debbie's household." His brow creased in curiosity. "What's on your mind, Justin?"

Justin shook his head. "Nothing, really. I was just thinking about Tony, I guess."

Brian nodded as he began to unbutton his black, linen shirt. He walked over to the closet and carefully hung his slightly-used shirt back up as he turned around. "Your cohort in crime?"

Justin mimicked Brian's actions as he, too, began to undress, pulling his light blue, cashmere sweater over his head and discarding it rather haphazardly over the curled arm of one of their leather chairs nearby, receiving an eye-rolling from his husband, who wouldn't be caught dead not hanging up his clothes. It was a common occurrence between them, even now. He smiled in reaction as he replied, "Yes..._my cohort in crime_."

Brian curled his lips under playfully as he asked, "What about him?" He unsnapped his jeans and slid them down his long legs, toeing off his suede shoes before stepping out of them. Grinning, he unexpectedly rolled his expensive jeans up into a ball and lobbed them over toward the open lid of the hamper in the closet, scoring a perfect goal. He pumped his right arm in triumph as Justin laughed in astonishment.

"I can't believe you just did that!"

"What, made a perfect goal? I did play basketball in high school, you know."

Justin unsnapped his own pair of jeans, removing his sneakers before taking them off. "No, I can't believe you didn't fold them up neatly before placing them into the hamper. You've never just wadded them up like that. That's something _I _would do!" To prove his point, he repeated Brian's action, wadding his jeans up into a ball and using both hands to toss his makeshift 'ball' toward the hamper, missing his target by at least a yard.

Brian laughed at the grimace on his husband's face as he walked over to him. "Sorry, Sunshine. Height does have its advantages - in a lot of things." He shrugged. "I just felt like doing it," he explained.

Justin nodded. "Well, in bed height doesn't matter - it's _finesse_."

Brian shook his head in amusement and grinned. "Touché," he allowed. "And it takes a real artiste to demonstrate finesse." Hooking his left hand around the base of Justin's neck, he pulled him toward him to kiss him briefly but soundly, their lips smacking as they broke apart a few seconds later. "Why don't you conduct a demonstration for me tonight?" he asked, the corner of his mouth quirking upward.

Justin seemed to ponder that notion. "I would be willing to do that...for the right pupil." Laughing at Brian's scowl, he grabbed his hand and led them toward the bed, his previous thoughts about Tony - and how he might be spending his own Christmas Eve with Fin - temporarily forgotten.

_Harrisburg, PA - Fin and Tony's House_

"I think I should run out and grab some more firewood from the back porch," Fin announced as he walked back into the living room and noticed the fire waning; the room was becoming slightly colder as the wood slowly burned down into solid ash. He looked over at the Christmas tree that he and Tony had so meticulously decorated last week that was displayed impressively in the corner and smiled. It was a ritual between them each Christmas; the two of them would visit their favorite Christmas tree lot and pick out the perfect, white pine, have it hoisted on top of his SUV, bring it home and store it in the garage for a couple of days, and then - on the weekend before the holiday, when both of them were not so busy - they would shuffle upstairs to their slightly dusty attic floor and bring down the plastic crates of Christmas decorations.

While Tony whipped up a batch of his rum eggnog - based on a closely-guarded recipe handed down from generation to generation in his family - Fin would stoke up the fireplace with plenty of wood and turn on their favorite Christmas carols as they began to decorate the tree. Each ornament held special significance to them - it was a mixed medley of all types of ornaments, meticulously collected over the years by the two of them during their travels. Some might think that decorating such an impressive tree with a seemingly incongruous mixture of ornaments was impetuous and even disorganized, but as Fin stood nearby and gazed at each ornament, a rush of happy memories flooded through him, and he thought it was the most incredibly beautiful tree he had ever seen.

Noticing that his partner hadn't replied to his statement, Fin turned to observe Tony sitting in their settee, his face framed in the glow from the fireplace, and his eyes a rainbow of prisms in the reflection of yellow and orange. He was holding a glass of the eggnog in his hand as he stared into the fire, seemingly deep in thought, the light-blue, silk robe he wore making him appear almost ethereal.

Fin furrowed his brow in concern as he walked over to his partner and gingerly sat down next to him. Tony blinked as he felt more than saw Fin's appearance, and turned to bestow a wistful smile on him.

"Tony, you okay?" Fin asked softly. "This is your favorite holiday, but right now you look more like your cat just died."

Tony snorted. "I've never owned a cat in my life, Fintan O'Connor. You know I'm allergic to them."

Fin grinned before turning more serious. "Well, you're thinking way too hard right now, my love." He reached over to undo the sash on Tony's robe, allowing it to fall open and display his partner's beautiful, lean body. The navy blue briefs encasing his rather impressive cock were snug-fitting and sexy as hell, making his own cock stir in response inside the sleep pants he was wearing. "Allow me to distract you a little." Reaching over, he was about to curl his fingers underneath the band of Tony's briefs to remove them, but sighed when he noticed Tony wasn't even looking at him. He dropped his hand onto Tony's knee as his partner finally refocused his gaze on him.

"Tony...what _is _it? This is going to be our last Christmas here for a while, and we're finally alone; completely alone, instead of the press or members of my staff hounding us. You're here in body, but not in spirit." He reached over to clasp Tony's hand in his, his fingers lovingly caressing the soft skin on top as the words he had just uttered finally came crashing back to him with instant clarity. "Oh, shit," he murmured in understanding as Tony stared into his eyes. "That's the reason, isn't it? This is going to be our last Christmas here together in our house."

Tony sighed. "I know it's silly," he whispered as he stared over at the slowly dying flames; somehow, it signified to him that the life they knew was about to change. Would it be for the better, though? He felt Fin's hand gripping his chin as his partner gently turned his face to look directly at him. "I know we'll still be together, no matter where we are."

"Damn straight we'll be," Fin growled, leaving no question about that. "But I know you, Tony. And you are already waxing sentimental about leaving our home, even if it IS temporary." He leaned down to gently kiss his partner's lips before pulling back to gaze into his eyes. He smiled. "You're going to miss this place, aren't you?"

"Won't you? This has been our home for over _ten years_ now, Fin. We've created a lot of wonderful memories here. Of course I'm going to miss it."

Fin nodded as he dropped his hand to rest it on the side of his partner's neck. "As will I," he admitted. "But we will take some of our possessions with us, and we'll make some new memories at the Governor's mansion. Hell, we can even take the horses with us, and stable them there. You'll see. You trust me, don't you?"

Tony shook his head as if that were a silly question. "You know I do." He looked around their living room, at all the photos and knickknacks arranged so meticulously on the bookshelves, the piano, and the mantel. Each one held a story about them, an adventure; a piece of their lives. There was no way they could take all of that with them. "It's just that..." He was at a loss for words.

"Tony, I know if it was up to you, you would take all of these things with you," Fin murmured softly, as if he could read his mind. "But these are all just things; material objects. Each memory we've shared is right here," he told him, placing his hand, palm down, on his partner's chest. "Right in our hearts. That will never be taken away from us, no matter WHERE we are. As long as I'm with you, I know I will be happy. And I think you feel the same...right?"

Tony nodded. "Of course," he whispered with a smile, his eyes glistening. "But promise me one thing, Fin."

"Anything."

"Promise me that we WILL come back here for special occasions...like our anniversary, and our birthdays. And Christmas. No matter HOW you might get pulled away, or how much others might want your attention. Promise me that we will continue to celebrate Christmas Eve here; together, alone. Just the two of us. They can have you Christmas Day; we can celebrate with family, or anyone else you want, _anywhere_ you want. But I want you alone on the night before...okay?" The two of them hadn't missed any opportunity over the past decade to celebrate their 'special days' alone, starting with the day they had first met at the courthouse; to them, it was just as important as an actual wedding ceremony, or any other commitment ritual. And to them, Christmas wouldn't be the same if they didn't spend the night before, renewing their love for each other - in private - and considering how blessed they were, just like tonight.

Fin reached up to caress his partner's cheek as he stared into the expressive, blue eyes; the eyes he could willingly drown in. The eyes he knew so well, whether they were expressing happiness, desire, sadness, or even uncertainty as they were at this moment. He smiled. "I promise, my love. Nothing will ever prevent that. Nothing," he told him firmly. "That means too much to me."

Tony nodded, then, seemingly satisfied. "Good," he told him as he leaned in to give Fin a peck on the lips. "Now that that is out of the way..." He rose to stand, his robe hanging open and providing Fin with a tantalizing view of his barely-dressed body.

"Just where are you going, Counselor? I was just about to examine your brief, uh, briefs."

Tony giggled. "You can 'examine my briefs' - or lack thereof - in just a moment. First, though," he said, as he walked over to his desk and bent over to retrieve something from the bottom left drawer, "we have something else to take care of."

"Besides my hard-on?" Fin teased, as Tony stood up and turned around, an elegantly-trimmed package in his hand.

Tony grinned. "Patience, Governor-Elect." He shook his head in amazement. "I'm still trying to get used to that," he admitted, as he walked back over to his partner and sat down next to him on the settee. "This is for you," he told him softly as he extended his hand out toward him. The gift - wrapped in royal blue paper and trimmed in a silver ribbon with a matching bow - was long and rectangular in shape.

"Oh, what I always wanted," Fin deadpanned. "You finally got me one of those singing fishes to hang on the wall, didn't you?" The two of them took inordinate joy in coming up with some of the most outlandish "as seen on TV" gifts they could find from time to time. Tony used to threaten him with either a pet rock, or one of the singing, "Billy-Bob" fishes that were all the rage not too long ago.

"You always did know me too well," Tony teased him back. "Open it."

Fin eyed the package warily before he took it from Tony's hands, tearing the paper away and ripping the ribbon apart to study the contents underneath. It was immediately apparent that it was some sort of painting; he could feel a frame hiding beneath the white tissue paper currently obscuring it. Placing the package on his knees, he pulled the tissue apart to peer at the contents, and couldn't prevent the gasp that escaped his lips. "Tony..." he cried out in stunned surprise, softly rubbing his fingertips over what was actually a photograph framed under glass, not a painting. All his most respected colleagues in the Senate had somehow managed to gather recently and pose for a photograph together in the Senate chamber. It appeared that all of them had signed their signatures to it afterward, along with short messages of good luck and congratulations. The photograph has been professionally framed, with a tasteful, gold plate attached at the bottom center that had Fin's name and his dates of service in the Senate inscribed on it. "This...this is amazing," he murmured as he lifted his gaze to peer over at his partner, who smiled in pleasure over his reaction. _"You're _amazing. Thank you. I'll cherish this, Tony." He stared down once more at the photograph in awe, knowing it would occupy a prized spot somewhere soon in his new office at the Governor's mansion.

Placing it down carefully on the coffee table in front of them, he kissed Tony briefly on the lips before reaching down between the seats to retrieve a small, tastefully decorated box.

"You hid it between the seat cushions?" Tony replied with a laugh as Fin shrugged.

"I kept it from you, didn't I? I know what a bloodhound you can be." It was a running game with them each year; Tony invariably discovered his hiding spot each Christmas, and on his birthday. He didn't go so far as to open the actual gifts, but normally he had no trouble determining where Fin had hidden them.

"You got me this time," Tony admitted with a smile; his eyes, however, were fixated on the small but elegantly wrapped package in the palm of Fin's hand.

"Go on, Counselor; I promise it won't bite." Fin pushed it a little more toward his partner, until Tony finally reached out and took it from his hand. It was a light blue box, with a royal-blue ribbon on the top. Holding his breath, Tony placed the box on his knees and slowly raised the lid, his hand trembling slightly. As he removed the lid and looked inside, his heart fell. What he assumed would be a ring turned out instead to be a shiny, gold key. "What...?" He forced himself not to stare into Fin's eyes, for fear his feelings of utter disappointment would show on his face. He reached inside the cotton-lined box to pluck out the key and hold it in his hand, feeling the coldness and weight there. Finally - confident enough that he had tampered down his sorrow - he looked over at his partner in confusion. "It's...a key."

Fin laughed. "I knew there was a reason why you were such a successful attorney," he told him as he rose to his feet and walked over to a painting that hid their wall safe from prying eyes. "You'll need it...for this." Swinging the painting aside on its hinges, he unlocked the safe with amazing alacrity before retrieving a large, rectangular-shaped, plain box from inside.

"When did you put THAT in there?" Tony asked. "I just got some paperwork out of there this morning."

Fin smiled. "It was in the trunk of my car until about an hour ago. I know how you work, Counselor."

Tony huffed as his partner walked back over and handed him the box. Placing the key back into the smaller box, he placed it down on the coffee table and slid his thumbnail under the side flap of the larger container to pull it open. Tissue paper hid the inside contents as he reached inside and pulled the object out. Within a few seconds, he had placed the larger box down onto the floor and had torn apart some of the tissue paper to reveal an expensive, butter leather briefcase.

Fin beamed in satisfaction, pleased by his choice of gift. Tony had been grousing for months about his older briefcase, and how hard it had become to carry from place to place. This one would be more than sufficient for his needs. "Look at the top," he told him, as Tony braced the briefcase on his knees and tore away the last, remaining part of tissue paper from the top near the handle. His breath caught in his throat as he began to reveal gold-embossed initials: T, then C, then...O? _Tony Cassinelli O'Connor_? Then, however, he tore just a bit more of the paper aside to see one last initial, a B, and once more his face fell slightly. He frowned as he plastered a neutral face back on and stared over at his partner in confusion.

"It's a play on your initials," Fin explained. "_Taking Care of Business_. Remember?" It was a running joke among them that Tony's initials didn't stand for his name, but, instead, they stood for "Taking Care of Business," and his parents had simply dropped the rest of his name at birth because it would be too long. It was a homage to his 'bulldog' tenacity in the courtroom. Everyone knew about his 'nickname,' so it wouldn't be too difficult to figure out whose briefcase it was if it ever got misplaced in the courthouse.

Tony nodded. "Yeah, I remember," he replied softly as he slowly stroked the soft leather exterior.

Fin frowned slightly in concern. "Tony? If you don't like this one, you can return it for a different one. I know your other one is about to fall apart, though, and I thought..."

"No," Tony reassured him hastily as he placed the briefcase down next to the small box on the coffee table and smiled at him, leaning over to push Fin gently until he was reclining against the back of the settee's curled arm. "It's perfect, Fin. I love it. Thank you for your thoughtfulness. It will come in very handy."

Fin smiled in relief. "I'm glad you like it," he told him. "Now, how about showing me how handy YOU are, Counselor?"

Tony grinned as he took just a moment to sit up and shrug the open robe off his shoulders, noticing Fin's eyes darkening with desire and appreciation. Now cast only in his briefs - which he knew would soon be gone as well - he forced aside his previous feelings of disappointment over what he had _really _wanted for Christmas, and concentrated, instead, on pleasing his partner.

_The Next Morning - Britin - Christmas Day_

"Mmmm." Still half-asleep, Brian softly moaned between closed lips as he felt a warm body perch itself on top of his upper legs, just before familiar lips lightly peppered his chest with kisses, followed then by a pair of hands slowly sliding up his arms to end up on his shoulders. He smiled, his eyes still closed, knowing what was coming next, as he felt Justin lean down and kiss him softly at first, waiting for him to open his mouth to respond. He gladly opened his mouth wider as two tongues began to duel together, both bodies rising with desire as they continued to kiss, Brian's hands coming up to wind up, palm down, on Justin's chest before they broke off the kiss.

Now fully awake in a most delicious way, Brian slowly opened his eyes and stared into his beautiful husband's face. "Good Morning, Sunshine. You always know my favorite way to wake up." Taking the back of his hand, he lightly rubbed his knuckles up and down the smooth flesh of Justin's chest.

"Good morning to you, too," Justin replied with a smile. "Merry Christmas, Brian."

Brian grunted; he still found all these hokey traditions a little hard to bear, although with Justin it somehow made it more tolerable. He sighed in resignation, offering his husband a half-smile. "Merry Christmas to you, too. Here to jingle my balls? Uh, bells? Bell?"

Justin laughed. "I think that can be arranged." He reached over to grab something off the nightstand as Brian continued to lie on his back.

"What the hell?" he groused a few seconds later, as he felt something scratchy on his skin.

Justin grinned as the unpleasant sensation disappeared, and he held out the offending material in front of Brian; it was a small sprig with a red ribbon tied at the top. "It IS Christmas," he explained, as he draped it over Brian's cock. Brian wrinkled up his nose, and promptly sneezed.

"Get that..._weed_ away from my dick!"

"You wish," Justin answered saucily. "You gave that up, remember?" Brian promptly sneezed again as Justin cooed, "Poor man. Let me give you something for that allergy. It is tradition, after all." He removed the offending item (thankfully to Brian), tossing it down onto the mattress before he gave the mushroom head a small kiss. "There. All better now." He made to rise from the bed, only to squeak as Brian grabbed his waist by the hands to stop him.

"Oh, I don't think so. It's 'far' from _better_, little boy. Look again."

Justin sniggered. "Little boy? Am I going to be a twink and a little boy for the rest of my life?" he groused.

"Don't know about that," Brian replied, suddenly turning serious as he stared into the eyes of the man he considered his soul mate. He didn't know if it was because of the holiday or what, but the words tumbled out of his mouth nonetheless. "But you'll always be my Sunshine."

Justin flushed with pleasure before his face broke out into a radiant smile. Even though he knew his husband loved him deeply, those sort of mushy - yes, _mushy_ - sentiments were few and far between. And he treasured every one of them. "Brian..." he murmured softly, his eyes welling up with tears.

Brian rolled his eyes. "Now don't go turning on the waterworks, Sun..., uh, Justin," he chided him as he managed to flip their bodies so he was lying on top of his husband. "We have to be at Debbie's soon."

Justin grinned. "You putting me on a schedule now?" he asked with mock incredulity as he peered up into a set of mischievous, hazel eyes.

Propped up on his elbows, Brian twirled some soft, blond strands of hair through his fingers as he replied, "No way. You...and me...alone? This is too good to pass up - or to rush." He smirked. "And my cock still is feeling _extremely_ allergic." He sneezed again.

Justin laughed. "Oh, that was sooo fake!" He shook his head in amusement as Brian waggled his eyebrows at him.

"So? Is it enough?"

Justin smiled lovingly up at him. "It's more than enough." His smile disappeared as he tenderly gazed into his husband's eyes. "Make love to me, Brian," he whispered.

"What'd I tell you about that sentimental shit?" Brian scolded him. But there was no sting behind his words, and Justin knew it. Even when it was a hard and fast fuck, there was always love behind it. Always had been, and always would be, no matter _what_ it was or wasn't called. Brian leaned down to gently kiss the soft, full lips before draping his body fully over his husband's, allowing his hands to begin caressing the lithe body beneath him. While his fingers gently glided over the soft, warm skin of Justin's shoulders and upper arms, he kept his lips, tongue, and teeth busy, nipping, licking, and sucking Justin's neck and face as he murmured nonsensical words to him, hearing the soft moans of appreciation escaping his lover's lips. "Mistletoe, my ass," he muttered under his breath as Justin giggled.

"I think that could be arranged, too...if you turn over."

Brian lifted his head to peer into the impish, blue eyes. "I don't think so, Sunshine."

Justin smiled with a shrug. "It was worth a try." He gasped as their now-hard cocks brushed against each other. "No matter. I...I think this is okay, too."

Brian peered at him, aghast. "Okay? Only _okay_?" He purposely writhed against his husband's body for emphasis as Justin moaned.

"Okay, okay - I mean, _more_ than okay! Fuck...Brian..."

"Other way around," his husband quipped as he reached over to the nightstand to locate their every-ready tube of lube on the nightstand nearby. "Maybe next round."

As Justin spread his legs wider to accommodate Brian's body, he sucked in a breath a few moments later when he felt the coldness of the lube on his hole as Brian readied himself into position. Justin gripped his husband's muscular, upper arms in preparation for feeling the customary, initial burn he would normally experience as his lover pushed inside. Instead, Brian seemed to hesitate for a moment.

"Brian?" was the soft entreaty as Justin gazed into his eyes.

Brian smiled at him almost shyly.

"What?"

He stared into Justin's eyes. "Nothing...I...I just wanted to..." He shook his head. "Fuck it." He took a deep breath and let it out. "I love you. So fucking much." Without another word, then, he pushed inside partway, allowing Justin time to adjust to the initial intrusion.

"Brian..." he breathed out, blinking back tears of happiness over his husband's heartfelt words. Call him sentimental; he didn't care.

Brian pushed in more. "Merry..." Another push. "Christmas..." Still another push, until he was balls deep into his lover. "Sunshine..."

"Ahhh...More..."

Brian smiled as he pulled almost all the way out, and then pushed back in, snapping his hips at just the right angle so he could hit that special spot that drove Justin insane. He heard Justin gasp and utter a loud whimper that told him he had been successful as he pulled back again. "Justin..." Rising his body upward slightly, he stared again into his husband's eyes before he began a steady rhythm now, his husband lifting his own hips to meet his in perfect synchrony to heighten the sensations. Sweat beginning to form on his brow, Brian began to do precisely what his soul mate has asked of him: make love to him. This would not be a frantic coupling, not this time.

The two of them thus began their familiar dance as Brian thrust in and out smoothly now, his eyes never leaving the darkened, blue orbs staring back at him. Their whimpers and breathy moans now filled the bedroom, their passion unabated as their bodies edged closer and closer to climax.

Brian's tempo sped up, his body charged with desire as the sweat now trickled off his brow and onto Justin's chest. He leaned in to deeply kiss his husband's mouth, feeling Justin's moans escape through his partly-open lips and driving him to pick up speed even more. He knew that this feeling - this exhilaration every time they made love - would never be rivaled by anything or anyone else. His body was tightening up now and rapidly reaching the point of no return - that sweet, amazing, release that would always be unparalleled and incomparable - as he grunted with exertion on every down stroke, sensing by the sounds Justin was making and the tightening of his husband's body around him that he, too, was nearing orgasm. "Justin," he commanded quietly as his body tensed up and he felt that rush of adrenalin. "Come with me..."

With one more, deep push, he was unable to control himself any longer; with a loud cry, his body erupted as he released his seed deep inside Justin's body, his face contorted with unrestrained desire. Pure, unadulterated nirvana.

Breathing heavily, he collapsed onto his husband's sticky, sweaty body, his heart threatening to burst from his chest and his head cradled in the crook of Justin's neck. He felt Justin's hands slowly sliding up and down his slick back, both of them too breathless for the moment to speak.

Finally, Brian lifted his head to peer into the sweaty face of his beautiful husband, his blond hair plastered to his forehead in the after throes of their passion. His breathing still ragged, his hoarsely admitted, "You're going to kill me one of these days, Sunshine. But I'll definitely go out with a smile on my face."

Justin grinned drowsily up at him, placing his left hand to cup Brian's cheek. His fingers slowly caressing the slightly-stubbled skin, he replied, "Well, youth does have its advantages. Don't tell me your more..._mature _age is finally catching up with you."

Brian snorted as he finally rolled off his husband and lay, flat on his back. His breathing was slowly returning to normal, but nevertheless as much as he hated to admit it, his much younger husband did tend to wear him out more easily then he used to be able to do. He would never admit that, though; that would be too much of a wound to his pride. "Hardly," he told Justin as the two turned their heads to look at each other, his husband reaching over to grasp his hand.

Justin held it up to his lips and kissed the top of it as he replied, "I didn't think so." He wasn't about to make Brian feel inferior or old. Brian could more than keep up with any man half his age. He smiled at him. "What time is it?"

Brian lifted his head just enough to spy the small, chrome alarm clock perched on Justin's side of the bed on the nightstand. He sighed regretfully. "Not time enough to go another round to prove my virility to you, Sunshine," he quipped with a smirk. "We're expected at Deb's within the hour. But a smart man always has a Plan B. Let's go take a shower, and we'll SEE who has the stamina in the family."

Justin grinned. "Now that's a dare I'm more than willing to take."

* * *

Arms laden with packages, both men walked up the sidewalk to Debbie's home she shared with Carl, wondering how they were going to even knock on the door to get anyone's attention, They soon found out, however, that it was unnecessary; as they proceeded to the steps leading up to the front porch, Brian grinned as he observed the right, front window drapes being opened, and then quickly shut, followed by the pounding of footsteps inside. "Get ready," he warned Justin. "Torpedo at 12:00."

Sure enough, a few seconds later the door swung open, and Gus came rushing out. "Daddy!" Papa!" he shrieked in delight as he greeted them on the front porch. Two pairs of familiar, plastic reindeer peered over at them on either side of the covered area with beady eyes as if they were security guards; they were remnants of Debbie's childhood that she cherished to this day. Gus jumped up and down excitedly in a pair of new dinosaur pajamas as he asked, "What did you get me?"

Brian chuckled as Lindsay walked out to take the packages from his hands, allowing him to lift his little boy up into his arms. "Nice to see you, too, Sonny Boy," he deadpanned in amusement. "How about a proper greeting first?" His son accommodatingly hugged his neck and bestowed a peck on his cheek as Brian turned to his husband to ask, "Justin, did you remember to bring Gus's gifts with us?"

Justin frowned as he shook his head. "I thought YOU had them."

Brian huffed. "No, I told YOU to put them in the trunk, remember?"

Gus's eyes widened in horror over the thought before the two men shouted in unison, "_Gotcha_!"

"Daddy!" Gus sputtered in disbelief. "Papa! He...You..." he looked from his father to Justin before he declared, "That wasn't funny!"

Both men laughed as Lindsay told her son, "Come on in, and give your Daddy and Papa some breathing room, Gus. Remember what I said about waiting until after breakfast to open gifts?"

"Okay, Mommy," Gus grumbled with a heavy sigh. He pulled at the sleeve of his outfit. "Do you like my new pajamas, Daddy? Grandma Debbie got them for me."

Brian smiled. "I see them," he told her. "Very nice. Now you'll have an outfit to wear when you spend the night with her." He slowly lowered his son to the ground, hearing animated voices coming from inside. "Sounds like everyone's here already."

Lindsay nodded, confirming, "You're the last ones to show up."

"Is that Brian and Sunshine?" Debbie called out from inside. "Tell them to get their asses in here - they're causing my heating bill to go up. Close the door, and get in here! Debbie's special, homemade Christmas brunch is almost ready!"

The two men exchanged an amused look as they followed Lindsay and Gus into the house, which was swarming with activity. Despite the space being somewhat cramped, especially during celebratory gatherings such as this, Debbie had remained steadfast in not wanting to move into larger quarters, feeling too much fondness for the house she had called a home for so many years. In the end, even though Carl had been more than willing to find someplace new, she had decided that the home where she had raised her only son and lived with her beloved brother Vic just held too many wonderful memories for her to leave. And to her, part of the house's charm was its 'coziness,' as she liked to think of it, along with the myriad, kitschy items interspersed throughout the house.

The residence was even _more_ cramped right now, with Debbie's tree holding a revered place near the corner of the room, and various Christmas decorations scattered throughout the first floor, including a few of the other members of Santa's reindeer standing guard in the other corners.

The kitchen was presently alive with Debbie, the 'head cook,' Jennifer and Kathy, the assistant cooks, and a somewhat reluctant 'junior chef' - all of them jockeying for room in the compact space. Alex had been given one of Debbie's favorite Christmas aprons to wear around her neck and waist that read, "_Dear Santa...Define Good_," although agreeing only grudgingly to wear it after being told she might risk getting grease on her new clothes if she didn't.

She would never admit it, but she had been secretly touched when Debbie had presented her this morning with a number of gifts, including the outfit she was presently wearing: a new pair of jeans, a red sweater, and a new pair of sneakers. She has also received a gift card to one of Pittsburgh's largest camera shops, as well as a small, digital photo key chain in which to store some of her favorite photographs. After having practically nothing before, all the attention being lavished upon her was almost overwhelming.

"Alex?"

She turned her head, plastering a more neutral expression on her face as she turned to face her benefactor. Her nose itching, she used the back of her hand to rub it across her skin. "Yeah?"

"How are the cinnamon rolls coming?"

Alex rolled her eyes. "They were still in the oven when I looked five minutes ago," she joked.

Debbie huffed. "Very funny. Well, don't let them burn," she cautioned her. "Or YOU'LL be the one rolling out the dough to make some more. Check them in a minute on the bottom to make sure they're not getting too brown." Turning to Jennifer, who was hovering over the stove, she asked, "How are the scrambled eggs coming?"

Jennifer turned to her with a smile, her body slowly rocking back and forth in time with a familiar Christmas tune playing on the old-fashioned turntable in the living room. "They're looking fine, Deb," she assured her as Debbie nodded, peering over her shoulder as best she could to make sure.

"Debbie, everything's great, Sweetheart," Carl soothed her as he walked into the kitchen, threading his way through the narrow space as best he could to fill up his coffee mug. "Come on into the living room and play hostess for a while. I'm sure they've got it all under control here."

"We're fine, Debbie," Kathy assured her with a smile as she stirred the cheesy hash browns next to Jennifer. "Just a few more minutes for the rest of this, and then it'll all be ready. Go give my grandson and grandson-in-law a kiss hello for me, and tell them I'll be in to give them a proper greeting soon." She laughed. "Better go rescue them before Sean starts telling them another one of his fish tales."

"Well, if you're sure," Debbie replied hesitantly. As much as she trusted her friends to take over for her, she still hated to give up control for some reason.

"Go," Kathy assured her, flailing her arms in a shooing motion. "We'll be right in with the rest of it in a couple of minutes."

Debbie nodded finally with a smile as Carl slid his arm around her waist and escorted her back into the living room where most of her guests were crowded around the sofa and chairs scattered piecemeal throughout the area. The chairs were an eclectic mixture of designs and styles, snagged from various rooms of the home and brought together for the occasion, but no one seemed to mind the ragtag collection of furniture. As the music softly played in the background, Gus ran around the room, hyped up on adrenalin, as the adults mingled in small groups to get caught up on what had been happening in their lives since the last time they had all been together.

Snatching a sprig of mistletoe from a nearby table, Debbie rushed over to her newest arrivals with a delighted smile on her face. "Merry Christmas, Sunshine!" she boomed out as she ran up and pulled Justin into a hug; pulling back, she held the sprig up over his head and pecked him on the cheek.

Shrinking back from her as she approached him, Brian quipped, "Uh, uh, uh, Deb. Your little Sunshine here has already tried to infect me with that shit. Keep it away from me." He wrinkled up his nose as he got a good whiff of the plant.

Debbie shook her head in amusement. "That's okay," she chirped agreeably as she handed the sprig to Justin. "I don't need it to wish you Merry Christmas...Scrooge," she teased. Reaching up on her tiptoes, she grabbed his shoulders to pull Brian's head down to kiss him on the cheek, wiping some bright, red lipstick off his face as she looked into his eyes and grinned at the sour expression on his face. "Merry Christmas, Brian!"

Brian couldn't help half-grinning back at her against his will. "You, too, Deb," he murmured, unable to stop the sentimental expression from escaping his lips.

Brian looked around to see who was in attendance; everyone seemed to be there, with two exceptions. "Where's my father and Tony?" he asked.

"They're here," Carl spoke up. "They're out on the back porch." Brian nodded. "You want me to go tell them that it's about time to eat?" Carl asked.

"I'll do it," Justin volunteered as the older man nodded. "I'll be right back." Smiling as Gus came rushing up to Brian to show him one of the presents Debbie had bought for him - a set of superhero action figures, no doubt purchased at Michael's store - he briefly greeted the little boy before walking over to the backdoor and opening it to find Fin and Tony leaning over the wooden railing and looking out onto the narrow, snow-covered backyard.

Both men turned around at the sound of the door creaking. "Hey," Justin greeted them with a smile as he walked over to join them. "I knew there were a couple of intelligent people left on the planet. Trying to stay away from the bedlam, huh?" he teased.

"Hey, Justin!" Fin greeted his son-in-law enthusiastically as he shook his hand warmly. Tony nodded at him with a smile, doing the same, before the three of them peered out into the backyard again, where Debbie had a well-loved, plastic Nativity scene perched in the corner, along with a couple more of Rudolph's brothers and sisters in the other corner. It made for a rather surreal blend of commercialization and Catholicism, but it oddly seemed appropriate in light of who had put it there.

Justin laughed as he took it all in. "I see Debbie has her normal Christmas decorating skills at work again," he observed dryly. "She puts out that same display every year. I remember the same one from when I used to live here."

Tony smiled. "I forgot you used to be a tenant here."

Justin smiled back at him in remembrance. "Not exactly a tenant," he corrected him softly as his mind went back into time. "More like another one of her 'lost boys' as she liked to call us." He turned to lean his body sideways against the railing as he explained, "I would have been in big trouble back then if she hadn't taken me in. I owe her a lot."

Fin and Tony nodded in understanding as Fin replied, "Speaking of 'lost ones," how goes it with your own waif?"

Justin grinned. "I guess it depends on who you ask and WHEN you ask. The tutor says she's doing great in her studies, and thinks she'll be more than ready to mainstream come next fall. But she also excels at driving Brian crazy - and she's teaching Gus some of her bad habits, too. The other day, they were honing their snowball-throwing skills on Brian when he came home and parked the car outside; _softball_-sized snowballs - _after_ they had melted partially and then refroze. He was NOT happy about that, but Gus seemed to think it was hysterical, along with Alex. I think we have a case of puppy love - or idol worship - on our hands." He sighed. "She's not a bad kid, not really. Just needs to channel her energy in other ways besides perfecting the art of driving Brian crazy when he comes home."

"Speaking of art, you still think she's got definite artistic ability?"

Justin nodded at Fin. "Definitely. And she's a pretty damn good photographer, too. Brian - in a moment of weakness," he said with a wry smile, "bought her a digital camera as an early Christmas present. I think he would never admit it, but he seems to be enjoying helping her learn how to take good photos with it, and teaching her proper lighting and exposure techniques. Even he admitted she has a good eye. And she's got a real talent for drawing, especially portraits, and she seems fascinated by it. Those are some of the things that definitely need to be encouraged to help her expend some of that energy she has." He laughed. "It's ironic, because in a way she's an older version of Gus. He has the same problem as far as having too much energy. He just has a more constructive way normally of alleviating it. I'm just a little wary about what _other_ sort of talents Alex is going to teach him besides how to make a mean snowball."

"Sounds like you've got your work cut out for you still," Fin observed as Justin nodded, looking over at Tony and noticing he appeared distinctly quiet for some reason. He had hardly said a word since he had walked out to greet them, other than to exchange some brief civilities.

"Yeah," Justin agreed. "But I see potential there. Anyway, I told Debbie I'd come out to tell you that it's almost time to eat. Want to come in and grab some more coffee first? My hands are about to freeze."

Fin smiled. "Sounds good; I could definitely use some more." He turned to his partner, thinking pretty much the same as Justin - Tony had seemed quieter than normal this morning; not non-communicative, but less talkative than he normally was. "Tony? Ready to go in? I need to talk with Brian about my inauguration speech anyway. This would be a good time before we get pulled in different directions again." It was hard enough to 'talk business' during the holidays, but he knew in only a few short weeks he would finally be taking the oath as governor and giving his first speech. It made him both nervous as well as extremely excited, but he and Brian had yet to really hash out what he wanted to say that day.

Tony nodded, bestowing a half-smile on his partner as Fin turned to go, only to have Justin speak up. "Uh, we'll be right in, Fin. I have something I wanted to talk to Tony about. It'll only take a minute or so."

Fin furrowed his brow briefly, but then nodded. Perhaps Justin could get his partner to open up about what was bothering him - whatever it was. His instincts told him that he was concerned about _something_, but he wasn't going to push it, at least not for the time being. He knew by now that sometimes Tony liked to mull things over on his own first. "Okay, I'll be right inside. I'll tell Debbie you'll be coming in soon." Leaning impulsively over to his partner, he pecked Tony briefly on the lips. "Don't stay out here too long," he reminded him as Tony nodded. Turning and heading back inside, Fin quietly closed the door behind him, leaving the other men alone.

"You needed to speak to me?" Tony asked quietly.

Justin shook his head. "More like I think you need to talk to ME. What's going on? You don't exactly seem like you're full of Christmas cheer this morning."

"I'm fine," Tony insisted.

"Uh, huh." Justin stared at him for several seconds, one eyebrow raised until finally Tony sighed in resignation.

"It's nothing, really. I'm just being ridiculous. It's not a big deal."

Justin reached over and grasped Tony's jacket sleeve. "Tony...You know Debbie will be out here hunting for our asses if you don't start talking soon. But I'm not going inside until you tell me what's bothering you."

Tony shook his head in self-loathing. "Trust me, it's stupid, Justin. I should know better by now that it's not going to happen. But...I guess I was still hoping that maybe, with it being Christmas..."

Justin stared over at him, noticing the expression of disappointment on his face. "...that Fin might propose finally?" he pressed gently as Tony nodded. "I don't think that's stupid, Tony. I take it that didn't happen, though?"

Tony nodded with a dry laugh. "No, not quite." He briefly covered his face with his hands as he placed his elbows on the flat, wooden railing, removing them to stare over at his friend. "I almost made a major idiot of myself, Justin! Fin gave me this small box for my gift, and I opened it up, thinking this is it...and then I found a key in it. A key that unlocked my brand, new, leather briefcase. I saw these initials engraved on it that said..._fuck_! It doesn't matter WHAT it said." He stood up and shook his head. "It's time for me to put that pipe dream away for good. What difference does it make? I know he loves me. You know, I'm normally a very methodical, logical man. So why is this any different? It's just a fucking, metal band and a piece of worthless paper. It doesn't change anything at all."

Justin eyed him sympathetically. "Tony..."

But his friend shook his head. "No, Justin, just drop it. That's what _I'm_ going to do. It's not a big deal. I love him, and he loves me. That should be good enough, right?" He held up his hand when Justin opened his mouth, preparing to reply. "Please. Don't say it." He licked his lips as he added, "We'd better go inside," before he turned and resolutely headed toward the door, leaving a thoughtful Justin watching him disappear. Shaking his head sadly, he slowly followed along behind him, unsure as to what - if anything - to do.

Chapter End Notes:

_To say I'm sorry for the LONG delay in between updates is not quite adequate, but I do apologize for those readers who have been waiting for it. Suffice to say that it has been a very difficult year for me. I will do my best to update sooner next time, and I WILL be updating my other WIP, "Tame the Wild Stallion," soon. For those of you still reading this story, I thank you sincerely for that. It WILL be finished, just like all my other stories. I'd like to express my appreciation for you bearing with me until I can accomplish that._


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